


Like a Liar does

by EdgarAllanCat



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Begging, Bisexuality, Blowjobs, Caning, Comfort, Coming Out, Crying, Dom Alice, Dom Margo, Dom Penny, Dom/sub, Drinking, Eventual Penny/Eliot, F/F, F/M, Finally they meet, Fluff, Humiliation, Impact Play, Kneeling, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Paddling, Pennyroyal, Platonic BDSM, Platonic Eliot/Margo, Public Humiliation, Slow Burn, Spanking, Strapping, Sub Dom universe, Sub Eliot, Sub Quentin, Subs needs other subs sometimes, Switch Julia, Switch Kady, Totally stalking, imaginary sex, possible stalking, queliot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:59:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 74,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6927613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarAllanCat/pseuds/EdgarAllanCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot Waugh is a Sub, but only Margo was privy to this information. Problems arise after Eliot's secret is accidentally on purpose exposed and he finds a sense of comfort in a bitter and angry Psychic who wants little to nothing to do with him. </p><p>Slow-burn, alternate universe roughly correlating to the events of season one (very roughly) with eventual Penny/Eliot. Tags updated as the fic updates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Eliot**

                “Back straight, hands behind your head, keep your head up, Eliot. Good. Good. See that? You work just like a brand new toy.”

                It felt like he had been on the floor for the past hour. Barely two minutes had crawled by and he was growing bitterly impatient. His fingers twisted up in his curls and he rolled back his eyes to stare at the ceiling. It was dull. Maybe they could paint it at some point. Margo’s room had glittering tapestries hanging from the ceiling to make the small space look like the inside of a caravan. His ceiling was just a dull white and something needed to be done about that. Maybe a nice purple would help brighten it up. At least then he would have something to stare at while he was down on aching knees. Anything would be better than the boredom pressing down on him. There was a stain on the ceiling and Eliot squinted to try to get a better look at it. Definitely wine. Now, how did wine get on the ceiling? Was that there when he had moved in or had he managed that one all by himself?

                A sudden, echoing _smack_ brought Eliot’s eyes down from the ceiling. He’d heard it before he felt it. Margo’s hand hadn’t done much damage to his thigh, his trousers mostly protecting him, but there was still a dull sting. “Okay, ow,” he said, starting to lower his hands to rub over the spot.

                “Hands, head,” Margo told him, kneeling in front of him and staring until his hands reluctantly went back to his head. “Alright, not like a new toy. You’re never going to get to where you want to be if you don’t listen.”

                Eliot let out a small whine of annoyance. Yes, he wanted that dull white space. He wanted to be out of his head and hear everything muffled and feel like there was nothing in the world but him and whomever he was with. Just an escape, just for a few moments, would be pure ecstasy. The problem was that he just couldn’t get there, not like this. “I’m bored,” he complained, delicately tugging at his hair. “This is boring.”

                It wasn’t Margo’s fault, not completely.  She was doing little more than babysitting here because there was only so much that she could do, only so many things fit into the tight confines of Eliot’s limits with her. Still, she was the only person he had, the only person who knew how desperately he needed this and how much worse his psyche would get without it. That was part of the problem. Margo was the only person who knew and the only one who wouldn’t judge him how he was. “I know it’s boring, that’s the point,” she said, swatting him lightly on the nose. “It’ll help you to clear your head.”

                If all it took to clear his head was to sit on the floor for a few minutes then he would do that himself. If only it were that easy. “How long am I supposed to sit here,” he asked, his eyes narrowing to glare at her.

                “Stop pouting or I’ll boop your nose again,” Margo teased as she stood back up. “And if I told you how long then you would focus on counting seconds. Eliot, close your eyes, focus on keeping your hands in place, and let’s try this again.” 

                With a very put-upon sigh Eliot let his eyes flutter closed and tried not to think about anything. Really, he was trying. He wanted his mind empty, he wanted a few seconds where he was relaxed and the tension drained from his shoulders and back. But it was only a moment before his mind started to wander off and think about things outside of the room. There was a whole new gaggle of first year students-the pun made him grin to himself-. At least one of them was reasonably attractive, if you were into the nerdy, boyish type of thing. Cute, naïve, and Submissive. Definitely. Eliot didn’t need to see Quentin’s ID to know that the boy was a Sub. Eliot could work around that. It wouldn’t be the first time he had—

                “Hey! Ow,” he exclaimed, his eyes shooting open and his hand going to rub at the fresh slap on his thigh. “What the hell was—“

                “Hands,” Margo snapped. She stood in front of him, arms crossed and mouth in a firm, thin line.

                Eliot hated the fact that a firm voice could make his insides quake. It wasn’t that he couldn’t rebel against it. There were times when someone’s voice dropped an octave that everything inside him screamed to kneel and he had to learn to ignore it and pretend it didn’t make him shiver. No one out there could know, but behind these walls with no one else watching his hands went quickly back to his head as though they were being pulled by an invisible string. He gritted his teeth, hating everything about this. He hated that he needed it, he hated that Margo had to be the one to do it, and he hated that she could slip so easily into a Dominant role while he was on the floor struggling. It would have been so much easier if he had been born any other way. Or, even better, not at all.

                Sitting in front of him again Margo put her hands on his head and brushed his hair back, her hands stopping on top of his. She held his gaze and gave his fingers a light squeeze before moving along and bringing her hands across his shoulders, smiling at the shudder that passed through him as she pulled away from him. “How about we try something different then, hmm? Just look at me. Focus on me and keeping your posture here, okay? Let’s try that, Eliot.”

                It sounded dull and terrible, but with one last sigh he agreed. If this didn’t do anything then he could always just hide in a bottle until the feelings went away. He sat there, keeping his eyes on Margo and trying not to start staring at the wine stain or think about the first years. Every time his eyes got foggy with thought or started to stray Margo would say his name to bring him back to focusing just on what was in front of him. When his elbows sagged or his fingers twisted in his curls or he slouched Margo quietly corrected him and led him to the proper position. It was tedious and awkward to begin with and Eliot had to refrain from rolling his eyes every time she corrected him. At some point, however, he lost track of time. Everything blurred together. Things were still there but the edges around them were fuzzy and quiet. He didn’t even really see Margo anymore and he couldn’t be sure if she was talking or not.

                Arms were around his shoulders, bringing him forward. Hands gently eased his aching shoulders, urging his arms back down to his sides. Eliot wasn’t moving, or he didn’t feel like he was. Every motion was caused by Margo silently leading him through what to do. Everything felt somehow fluid and robotic at the same time. He leaned into her shoulder, letting the waves of calm crash over him before he started to come back up. Everything felt absolutely fantastic, like there was nothing wrong with the world or the fact that he lived in it. Margo was soft against him and there was something so absolutely perfect about her hands carding through his hair.

                “See, Eliot, you can be a good boy,” she told him, her breath hot on his ear. “You’re such a good boy.”

                The praise made him shiver and he managed to move his hand of his own accord. His fingers wrapped around her shirt, clinging tightly until his knuckles were white. If he were to die right there that would be perfect. Unfortunately, he didn’t die and the edges of the world were starting to return. That was the problem with his scenes with Margo. They could get him to that place but he could never stay long. The cloud was never thick enough, the fog never very heavy. The waterfall of praise helped him stay under a little longer. Margo was whispering ‘Good boy, beautiful boy’ in his ear along with a stream of other praises. It helped for a few minutes, but eventually he could hear the buzzing of the florescent lights in his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stay in Sub-space for a little while longer.

                Margo held him closer and tighter as she tried to stand with him still wrapped around her. “Come on, baby, I’m not a big fan of it down here on the floor.”

                Eliot tried to say something about how she had no idea what it was like to be on the floor but it came out mostly as incoherent mumbling into her shoulder.

                “Don’t be a brat,” she told him, laying him onto the bed and sparing some gentleness for his grumbling. “Lay down and be good like I know you can be.” The mattress dipped under Margo’s weight as she snuggled beside him. Her hands trailed lightly over his arm and her eyes were focused on him. “We can stay here as long as you want. Just like this.”

                If he closed his eyes then Eliot could pretend that there was someone else there with him. Maybe a nice blond who didn’t speak English very well. That would be nice. It would be easy to ignore orders if he couldn’t understand them. It was hard to pretend when he was surrounded with the smell of Margo. Her coconut scented lotion filling his nose and Daisy perfume hanging in the air. He couldn’t pretend when he was coming back above the water. Sometimes he liked to pretend that one day he wouldn’t have to pretend.

                Pulling back away from her Eliot rubbed at his eyes to try to get rid of the spots in his vision. He regretted it because he missed Margo’s arms around him, but he also couldn’t lie there any longer. “I’m fine,” he assured her, yawning slightly as he sat up and stretched. His joints popped and groaned as he moved from being in odd positions for the past hour.

                Margo stared up at him as though she didn’t quite believe him. “I don’t remember telling you that you could get up.”

                “We’re out of scene.”

                “Not until I say we are. Lie back down and try that again.”

                Eliot knew exactly what Margo wanted; he just absolutely _hated_ asking for any kind of permission to do anything. It was the single most humiliating part of anything and he was sure that he would never ever get used to it. His stomach felt queasy just thinking about it and he lay back down, trying to disconnect his mind from his body. There had been times when he had lain in the bed for more than an hour just because he couldn’t move past his pride and ask, not even for something so simple. Margo had run her hands through her hair and explained that this was helpful, just part of the process. She had told him that he needed to trust her. . It was a ridiculous part of the process. It was boring and there was absolutely nothing to do in that bed at that time except glare at the ceiling and wonder about the wine stain. The stain became very boring very quickly and Eliot was back to tugging at his hair and kicking his foot against the mattress until Margo swatted his thigh again.

                A quarter of an hour had passed before he finally let out a low sigh, rolling over so his face was pressed into the pillow. He held the edges of the pillowcase in his hands, squeezing them tight. “May I…get up?” he finally said into the pillow, feeling heat rush to his face as he bit back his pride.

                Margo’s hand stopped in his hair and slowly trailed down the side of his head. Gently, she nudged at his chin and tried to urge him out of the pillow. “Sorry, I didn’t quite hear that. Try it like a grown up.”

                She had heard it. Eliot knew good and well that she had heard it. This was just her further attempt to humiliate him. No, he knew that wasn’t it. He wished that was it so that he could at least be angry over it, but it was nothing so cruel. This was an attempt to help him, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. He brought his face up a few inches out of the pillow, glaring at it. “May I get up?” he repeated through his teeth.

                With a small smile Margo patted his back. “Good boy. You can get up now. See, now that wasn’t so hard.”

                Ears burning Eliot all but flew out of the bed. He hated it. Mostly he hated that it worked and helped. Before he had found Margo he had been overexcited by the group of students being tested. The excitement made him loud, obnoxious, and twitchy. He knew this. His fingers had been drumming patterns against his thigh as he had paced and spoke about how marvellous it was that they were getting new play-things. His brain had been moving faster than his mouth, making his sentences disjointed and causing him to eagerly bounce from one topic to the next. Now, his hands were still and his brain was slightly foggy. It was ridiculous. It was stupid to him that to be like a normal person he had to sit on a floor and ask permission to move.

                “Feel better?” Margo asked as she stretched her hands over her head. “You look better. Well, you look less like you’re going to take off running across campus to grab the first newbie you can find.”

                 “Hush, I’m fine.” He was. That little scene felt like enough to hold him over for a few days anyway. It wasn’t quite as good as actually being with someone, but it would work for now.

 

                Margo yawned and the mattress squeaked as she sat up. “Right. What was his name again?”

                Eliot smiled to himself, knowing that she couldn’t see “Quentin Coldwater.” The name felt beautiful in his mouth, like a little song.

                “That’s a terrible name.”

                “Well, you know what they say about men with terrible names.”

                “That…they have terrible names?”

                Turning around Eliot offered her his hand, bringing her off the bed. They were out of the scene. Margo wasn’t a Dom anymore, not in his eyes, not now. Now she was just Margo, his best friend. “Something like that. Follow me, I’ll introduce you to him. Trust me when I say he’s adorable. Terrible hair, can’t tie a tie, and his pants are too short for him. It’s sad. It’s cute.”

                “You really have the worst taste in men, Eliot,” she told him as they linked arms.

                Eliot ignored the little quip and started heading out the door, all the while talking excessively about the new first years. This was the way Eliot had always been about everything. It was impossible for him to casually like something. There were things he disliked and things he dismissed as being dull, but when he liked something he saw nothing but that one thing until something else grabbed his attention. Margo called it obsessive, he disagreed but wasn’t sure what to call it. It would be nice if he could explain his mind to Margo sometimes. It wasn’t worth trying. Hell, half the time he didn’t even know what was going on up there. It was a mess, and he just talked to try to slow some of the thoughts down.

                The thing about the first year dormitories were that they weren’t very well protected. The locks weren’t sturdy on the doors, meaning absolutely nothing was safe. Eliot thought sometimes that the Powers That Be just wanted first year students to have their rooms broken into. Wrapping one arm around Margo’s waist he lifted a hand and listened for a moment. People were definitely inside the room. He checked the door and, sure enough, Quentin Coldwater was printed on a little card beneath the name William Adiyodi. Eliot twisted his fingers and there was a little pop before the door swung open.

                Quentin was lying on his bed, halfway upright, his eyes wide as he stared at the door. Poor thing, Eliot thought, he wasn’t used to interruptions like this. Well, the sooner he became acclimated to them the better it would be.

                “This is him, Margo. See, just like I told you.”

                Margo smiled, half wrapping herself around Eliot as though trying to announce to the room that he was hers. “Oh, he is cute. Small, shy, Submissive. My three favourite S’s,” she practically purred.

                Eliot playfully clicked his teeth at her. “Down girl, I saw him first.”

                “Hey, if ya’ll are taking him away that’s great, but if you’re just standing here then that’s less great.”

                Turning away from Margo Eliot turned to the source of the voice. The boy on the other bed was, aside from attractive, intimidating. It wasn’t just his physical prowess, he oozed toxic masculinity. There was no doubt he was a Dom. Just the way he sat, the way his shoulders were back and his eyes focused, screamed Dominant. He was the last person Eliot needed around right then. With his brain still being agreeable he wasn’t about to risk embarrassing himself

                “Don’t think your roomie wants to play. Come along, Quentin, we’ll give you the grand tour.”

                Quentin was following after them like a lost puppy. It was adorable, it was almost unnerving. To ease the anxiety Eliot made sure to make himself the centre of attention. That much he did liked. He loved it when people focused on the person he pretended to be. As they walked he pointed out the different buildings, which groups were cool and which groups were complete losers. Spoiler, his friends were the cool ones and the people who hated him were the losers. It was all going so well. Quentin was looking at the right times, he was paying attention. It was perfect until—

                “Quentin!”

                Eliot had been standing on a stone bench, explaining the parties, when a dark haired girl came hurrying up the path. She wrapped her arms around Quentin and he hugged her back. Frowning, Eliot jumped off the bench and took a few steps towards the couple before sliding an arm around Margo’s waist. Waiting.

                “Oh, Jules, this is fantastic,” Quentin said as he pulled back from the hug. “Magic is real. We go to a school f-fo-for magic! I-I mean it’s all real!”

                Did he have to point out the obvious? That might have been endearing if Quentin wasn’t paying attention to someone who was decidedly not him. Eliot cleared his throat loudly to get Quentin’s attention and, thankfully, it worked.

                “Oh, right. Um, Jules, these are my friends. That’s Eliot and that’s Margo. Guys, this is Julia. She’s been my, uh, my best friend since we were kids.”

                “Nice to meet you.” The girl, Julia, apparently, offered her hand.

                Eliot outright ignored the invitation for a handshake and leaned his head on Margo’s shoulder. “How sweet,” he drawled.

                Margo managed a smile. “I like your shirt,” she said, pointing to the blue smock-thing that Julia was wearing. Anyone who knew Margo could tell it wasn’t meant was as compliment.

                Julia looked at the two of them. “Thanks,” she said and lowered her hand. She was standing in front of Quentin like she was protecting him from the two of them. Which was both wise and completely uncalled for.

                “Anyway,” Quentin cut in, “Eliot and Margo were inviting us to a, um, a party over at their cottage. It, uh, it might be fun.” Either he didn’t notice the tension or he was trying to break it by being as awkward as humanly possible.

                “Actually, we were inviting you, Quentin,” Margo told him sweetly.

                Eliot suddenly got the feeling that Quentin wasn’t going to break away from Julia at any point in the near future. Something had to be done about that. Not until he settled into Brakebills anyway. “Margo, don’t be rude. His little… _friend_ can tag along,” he said, curling into Margo.

                After glancing up at him Margo grinned. “Sure, the more the merrier. Just come by between eight tonight and…three o’clock in the morning. If you get there after three then just fall asleep with whoever you like best.” She reached over and took Eliot’s hand as he started to raise it. “Ta, children.”

                Turning away Eliot listened to the two of them talking, Quentin going back to how amazing the world was. He was cute but innocent, Eliot couldn’t deny that. It was actually quite cute. The world could still be bright and new to him, magic was still the stuff of rainbows and unicorns. He would learn, probably the hard way, but he would still learn. Until then, Eliot planned to take full advantage of the first year’s naivety.

                “Do we like her?” Margo asked once they were out of earshot.

                Being best friends with Margo meant several things. It meant never hating someone alone. Once one of them hated someone that was it and they both hated that person. Eliot hated Melanie Wong. He had never met Melanie Wong and Margo hadn’t seen her since third grade. Still, Eliot hated Melanie Wong with all his heart. “I don’t think we do. She seems…bossy.”

                “Hmm, Dom?”

                “Not his.” Maybe he was just being hopeful in that. It didn’t look like they were really together. Not that it mattered. A person being in a monogamous relationship had never stopped him before. “We’ll steal her wallet later and check it out to make sure. And also for fun. And also because we hate her. And also because here, Margo,” he said with a smile as he held out the small wallet.

                “Eliot, have I ever told you how wonderful you are?” Margo asked with a smile as she took Julia’s wallet.

                “Might’ve mentioned it a time or two.”

                It would be a good night, Eliot decided. If it wasn’t, well, he would have to make it into one. His brain was cleared from his session with Margo and he was hoping for an evening that severely depleted their stock of alcohol.

**Quentin**

“Since when do you go to parties?”

                That was a really good question, actually. Quentin had never particularly enjoyed parties. There were always too many people and you had to raise your voice in order to be heard. Besides, no one ever seemed particularly interested in talking at parties. As a general rule he just avoided them to save himself the awkwardness. “I think…I think things are different here than they are everywhere else.” A party here probably had some element of magic to it. He thought about the fireworks that Gandalf shot off in Lord of The Rings. It was probably a lot like that.

                Julia sighed and looked over at him, concern etched into her features. “I just…first of all I can’t believe this is real,” she said, looking away from him to gaze over the grounds of Brakebills. “It’s amazing. It’s—“

                “It’s everything we ever wanted,” he finished for her, smiling to himself. “I mean, I always knew, I mean, like…I knew that there was a reason I fe-felt like I didn’t belong out there. I just couldn’t have imagined that this…that this was here. It’s everything. This is the most important thing that’s ever happened to me. And there are people here, like us. We’re going to learn magic, Jules.”

                The concern returned to Julia’s face and she put her hands in her pockets as she walked. “Right. How long had you known those two?”

                “Oh, I met Eliot this morning and I’ve known Margo for, um, about twenty minutes,” he said, shrugging. “Actually, Eliot took me to the exam room. I guess that’s what the older students do? I’m not really sure.”

                “He’s older than us?” Julia asked, glancing back over her shoulder. “I honestly thought he was, like, twelve. How old is he?”

“Do you want to go to their cottage thing tonight? I mean, it might be interesting. A magic party.”

                “We do have class tomorrow.”

                “Right, yeah…yeah, maybe we shouldn’t go.” He did want to go, but not alone. Eliot and Margo probably had friends of their own and just invited him to be nice or something. That seemed like something that people might do. “I just thought, I mean, we’re here. We’re at a magic school. We should, you know, get to do…magic…things?”

                Julia just stared at him for a minute before giving in. “Fine, we’ll go,” she said, smiling as Quentin’s face lit up. “But stay close to me. I don’t trust that guy.”

                “Eliot? He’s my friend, don’t worry.”

                “You’ve known him less than twelve hours, that doesn’t make him your friend. Besides, he was looking at you like you were…for sale or something.”

                “I think he was just being friendly?”

                “Q, I’m almost positive he wants to sleep with you in the worst kind of way.”

                Quentin processed about half of that before he looked back up, his brain already moving away from the conversation. “Hey, let’s go to…your room.”

                “What wrong with your room?”

                “It’s got Penny in it….”

                “Well, with any luck we’ll both be out of that dorm soon. My roommate is just…weird. But she’s quiet. So, c’mon, let’s see what this magic place is all about.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. My Beta and I are both rather unwell at the moment. But, anyway, here's some Queliot for you.

**Eliot**

The problem with trying to drink a glass of wine in the shower was that the water tended to dilute it quite a bit. The wine would go from chilled to lukewarm fairly quickly and there wasn’t really a safe place to sit the glass when trying to wash your hair. Most people would learn the first time not to have a shower wine. Several dozen showers later and Eliot was still stepping out of the steaming room, wrapped in a cotton robe, and drinking a soapy warm merlot. On the plus side he was showered and shaved and should have time to get dressed.  It was only a little after eight and it wasn’t like there were any real preparations left to make for that night.

                No one in their right mind would show up before half-past-dark. So he settled onto the sofa to finish off the wine. Even with shampoo it wasn’t terrible. Besides that, it wasn’t as though he could waste it; that bottle cost someone seventy-dollars. They didn’t have many rules in the cottage (actually they had several but only a select few were worth following) and one was the alcohol did not get poured out. He was about halfway finished with his glass when he heard this strange sort of banging. Pausing he listened and tried very hard to ignore it but it was persistent. With an annoyed sigh he pushed up from the sofa and followed the noise to the door. Curious, he opened it.

                “What, exactly, are you doing,” he asked, looking down at Quentin, Julia, and…some girl he wasn’t sure if he knew or not.

                “Um…did you know you don’t have a doorknob?” Quentin asked.

                “Why…would we have a doorknob?” Eliot said completely baffled as he leaned against the doorframe. “Also, what are you doing here?”

                Quentin’s face got this adorable panicked look about it as though he was suddenly completely unsure of why he was there. He looked to the girls, stuttering over something that might have been an attempt at an explanation.

                “You invited us,” Julia finally said, her voice sharp as she stepped forward. “Like, four hours ago? Can you remember that far back right now?” Her eyes strayed down to his merlot and there was an accusation in her voice.

                Oh no, he didn’t like her. She seemed like the type that had to be right and _that_ was going to be unbearable. Besides that she seemed frustratingly protective over Quentin, which would get in his way. “Yes, but to a party. You’re early.” He looked past them over the grounds. The sunlight was rapidly fading but it was still definitely daylight out there.

                Julia and Quentin exchanged a look. “You said eight…” Quentin pointed out.

                In what world did eight actually mean eight? Moving away Eliot ushered them into the door. They just had so much to learn and it was absolutely adorable. “Eight means at the earliest nine. Lord, children, you didn’t pregame, did you?”

                “Um…no?” Quentin said, making it sound like a question.

                Well, at least they had that going for them. They had managed to get one thing right and he almost felt like applauding them for that tiny victory. Instead of clapping he handed his wine off to Quentin and shooed them over to the sofa. “Well, certainly glad you made it nonetheless. Help yourselves to absolutely nothing. Quentin, um…” he paused at the blonde girl, “you…have we met?”

                She was incredibly unassuming. Her dress made her look like she was trying to hide the fact that she had a body and large glasses shielded most of her face from view. However, they didn’t cover up the sour look she had about her. Eliot was fairly certain nothing could. “No. Alice,” she told him, her voice surprisingly strong given her figure. “Alice Quinn.”

                Alice Quinn. Eliot didn’t know her, he didn’t need to, the Quinn family reputation preceded her. She came from a very long line of powerful Magicians, Brakebills Alumni. So there was a slight hesitation to his smile as he looked her over. She looked like she would have rather been anywhere else in that moment. “Well, Alice, very good to have you and glad we haven’t met. I would be terribly embarrassed if I had forgotten someone’s name. Quentin, Alice, Gemma, sit, talk, I’ll be back shortly.”

                Smiling to himself Eliot turned on his heel and headed gracefully up the steps, not waiting around for Julia to correct him. Of course he had to hear her shout a correction at him, but he didn’t respond. He burst into Margo’s room, heading straight for the closet. They didn’t really have much in the way of personal space here. Half of his things were in her room anyway, including the outfit he wanted.

                “Alice Quinn,” he said as he threw pieces of an outfit onto her bed. “Seems sad. Probably is. Has this look like she thinks she’s better than everyone else, which is probably not without reason.”

                Margo was laid out on the bed, watching Eliot with mild interest at his enthusiasm. “We’ll get her drunk,” she suggested. “That usually takes care of everything.”

                “You do always have the best solutions,” Eliot told her as he started untying his robe. There were no muscles hidden beneath the fabric. Rather, his chest was scrawny and blindingly pale. His rib bones jutted out making it look like his skin was stretched too tightly over his skeleton. The scars on his arms had faded into thin white lines that only showed if his skin tanned. Margo had already seen the spiralling marks on his arms and thighs. He didn’t have to hide them from her, he didn’t need to distract her. She knew but they didn’t talk about it. Folding his discarded robe over a chair he sauntered over to Margo’s bed. “Sobriety is cancelled all around tonight.”

                Smirking, Margo tossed Eliot up his shirt. “You’re not seriously going to try and lure Quentin into bed?” She paused. “I don’t know why I’m asking when I know that’s your plan.”

                “Not quite. Luring makes it sound so…predatory. I plan to charm and seduce him, like I always do. Trust me.”

                “Hmm, every time you say ‘trust me’ I end up taking care of a beautiful disaster. Come here, you’re practically bouncing.” She motioned for Eliot to sit next to her on the bed while she spoke and started fixing the buttons on his shirt. “You know how this is going to turn out.”

                “I also know how to button a shirt and yet…It’ll be _fine_ Margo.” Somewhere in the back of his mind Eliot knew that it wouldn’t be fine. However, Eliot was really good at telling that part to be quiet. “You worry too much.”

                Reaching past him Margo grabbed a tie and draped it around Eliot’s neck, popping the collar on his shirt. “I worry because I’ve known you for more than five minutes. This is going to—hold still—end in disaster.”

“Name one time any of my whirlwind romances have ended in tragedy,” he said, leaning into her and letting his eyes close lightly.

                At that Margo looked up, one eyebrow quirked. “Robert? Matthias?”

                “To be fair I didn’t realise he was quite so Catholic.” Okay, so maybe there had been one or two relationships hadn’t gone as planned. That didn’t mean that every romantic endeavour was going to fall and crumble. “I think you’re just jealous that you didn’t catch sight of him first. Sweet little, awkward submissive? Sounds like something a certain Miss Margo would like.”

                Rolling her eyes Margo reached up, carding her fingers through Eliot’s hand. “Oh, yes, that’s _exactly_ what I want. Someone with sweaty palms and a nervous stutter? Right, because that’s what I _always_ go for. I’m not jealous. Again, concerned. Get your pants on,” she told him, standing up from the bed and patting his head.

                Blinking Eliot wondered for a moment how she had managed to calm him so quickly. The moment he realised what had happened he picked up a pillow and half-heartedly threw it at her. “That’s not fair.”

                “You weren’t complaining.”

                Eliot huffed and pushed himself off the bed, jerking up his trousers as he stood. “I can’t be all… _Subby_ when there are people around.” He said the word as though it made him want to vomit just thinking about it, like it was something wrong and disgusting.

                “Eliot, they think you’re a Switch. There’s less shame in that,” Margo reminded him as she leaned over her desk and checked her makeup in the mirror. “I don’t think anyone is going to notice if you’re spacing a bit.”

                _I would notice_ Eliot thought to himself as he pulled his pants on, tucking his shirt in. “Speaking of Switch, we need to get Switch Bitch’s wallet back to her,” he said as he grabbed up Julia’s powder blue wallet and walked up behind Margo. “Well, we don’t have to but common etiquette dictates that it’s something we should certainly consider.”

                “Of course, because it’s the right thing to do,” Margo said as she turned back to Eliot, keeping her face completely deadpanned. “And we _always_ do the right thing.”

                He grinned, slipping the wallet in Margo’s purse. “Of course we do. We’re superheroes, after all.”

                Margo linked her arm with Eliot’s, taking a tight hold of his hand. “Dibs on Catwoman.”

                “I’d look better in the suit.”

                “No, you have skinny legs.”

                “I’m hurt and offended,” he said with mock horror as they started out of the room. “Besides, you don’t really have the ass for Catwoman.”

                “Eliot, I’m not sure when the last time you looked in a mirror was, but your ass is actually non-existent.

                “Anyway, the point you’re missing is that I said ‘superhero’. Catwoman isn’t exactly a hero. In fact, I’m fairly certain she’s supposed to be a villain.”

Margo hummed and shook her head as she led Eliot back down the stairs. “No, read the comics again. Chaotic good. She was never exactly a villain.”

                Eliot would have at least tried to find an argument, but thankfully he had guests to entertain. The conversation about Catwoman was lost as they stepped into the commons. Quentin and Julia were still on the sofa with Quentin looking questioningly at the wine. Alice was tucked into a chair, book open in her hands. Eliot looked over to Margo, raising a brow. “You take the blonde, I’ll deal with brunettes.”

                “Perfect,” she said, smiling as she broke away from him. “Alice? It’s Alice, right,” Margo began.

                While those two were getting acquainted Eliot clapped his hands together. “Right, drinks.” He stopped, looking over at Julia and Quentin. Quentin was a lightweight, he was almost sure of it.

                “Yeah, drinks. Um, is there a reason this tastes like soap,” Quentin asked, raising up the glass of merlot.

                “Oh, that’s shower wine,” Eliot explained, taking the glass back and downing the rest of the warm, watered down, soapy wine. “Anyway, what’s your poison?”

                He was answered with two confused looked.

                Sighing, Eliot rubbed his temples. Oh, this would be more of a pain than he had originally anticipated. “Drinks. What kind of alcohol do you want? Don’t be shy, if you can name it then I can make it.”

                “Uhh…” Quentin looked over at Julia as though she might help him somehow. “Martini? Um, shaken not stirred,” he added with a smile.

 Everything inside of Eliot died in that moment. Or, he would say that it did anyway. His mouth twisted into a grimace and he wanted very much to bash his head against the wall. However, he managed to, somehow, keep his composure. Taking a deep breath he made a big show about calming himself down before speaking. “Quentin. We do. Not. ‘Shake’. A. Martini,” he explained slowly.

                Quentin looked back over to Julia, brows furrowed. “Oh, um, it’s from James Bond. He, um—“

                “Yes, yes, I’m aware that James Bond is quite uneducated in the art of mixing drinks. Shaking a martini will _dilute_ the alcohol, Quentin. You shake a margarita to dilute the sour mix, you stir a martini to chill it. Also, you’re getting a cosmo now.”

                Quentin looked down, cheeks flushed. “Yeah, okay,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

 Poor thing, Eliot thought. He knew so much and yet none of it was useful. There was something endearing about that, really. Something about Quentin trying to be James Bond was downright cute. “And for you,” he asked, turning to look at Julia.

                Julia shrugged. “Maybe just merlot. Preferably one that you haven’t taken a shower with, though.”

                Eliot nodded, taking this into consideration. “Right, of course. Lemon drop it is then.”

                “That’s not what I—“

“Alice,” he said, whipping around to face Alice and Margo. Margo was sitting on the arm of the chair, holding Alice’s book. “Drink?” Alice didn’t look like much of a drinker, but Eliot was hoping she would have at least _some_ clue about it.

                Before Alice could say anything Margo leaned down and whispered something in her ear. Nodding, Alice looked back up to Eliot. “French 75?”

                “Oh, make it two,” Margo said, grinning.

                “What a wonderful choice that Alice has made all by herself,” he said as he moved around the sofa and back behind his bar. The bar station was surrounded by some rather impressive wards. It had taken him and Margo weeks to get them up when they had decided that the bar needed a little more protection. There were only so many times someone could drunkenly stumble into a shelf of glasses and alcohol before you took preventative action. It was just a bit annoying to have to remove the wards every time he needed a bottle or a glass.

                Smiling to himself Eliot twisted his fingers and lowered the wards. He could feel the magic falling around him, opening up the small space and letting fresh air into it. He worked fast, taking out his jiggers and shakers, twisting around to get to the ice bucket. This was his comfort zone, this was what he knew he was good at. There was a smile as he heard Margo turn the stereo on and he fell into time with Sean Foreman’s singing. He was, of course, showing off more than a little bit. Due to boredom and practise he could impress the newbies by throwing bottles behind his back or twirling them in the air. It had taken months and several broken bottles to get decent, but it was worth it to get to be a show off for a minute.

                Finally, he finished garnishing the last drink, put all five drinks on a tray, and put his wards back up. “Consider this your official welcome to Brakebills,” he said in a grandiose voice as he passed out his drinks. “And I think you’ll find that everything I’ve made is flawless.”

                Quentin took a small sip of his cosmopolitan, a bit of the drink dribbling down his chin. “Oh, yeah, that’s actually really good. Um, thanks.”

                Eliot absolutely beamed, taking up his Manhattan. People were happy with their drinks, and that made him absolutely thrilled. And the praise would never hurt.

                “Not bad, would’ve preferred the wine,” Julia told him with a shrug. “But it’s not the worst I’ve ever had.”

                “How sweet I assume,” Eliot drawled out.

                “Thank you,” Alice said, joining into the conversation. She had set her drink down on the side table after having only had one sip of it. “It’s…very nice of you to…” she paused, struggling for the right words, “to make sure everyone has something. You…did a good job. Good boy.”

                Eliot’s stomach dropped and his hand fumbled for just a moment as he raised his glass to hide his expression.  It wasn’t like Alice had really done anything particularly terrible. She had used a common phrase in passing, not knowing that it would affect him. God, he wished it didn’t affect him. He wished to god that he didn’t have the sudden urge to sit his head in her lap or let her play with his hair. If he hadn’t been so Subby before coming downstairs then he wouldn’t have been so affected by it.

                Finally he cleared his throat and shook his head. “Right, anyway, I’m going to bring the rest of the wine out of the cooler and get tonight started proper. If you need me…good luck!”

There was no way he was letting one little phrase get in his way of having a good night. Margo was right, he could just blame it on being a Switch, but he hated it still. He didn’t want anyone to acknowledge that he had any Submissive qualities, he just wanted to have an enjoyable night. As he stepped out of the room he grabbed his flask from his pocket, taking a drink. The straight whiskey calmed him far more than the Manhattan could.

                It was one stupid phrase from a stranger. It was so pointless and stupid to feel anything about it. As he walked into the kitchen Eliot brushed his curls back from his face and took a deep breath. He could do this, he had to do this, and he wasn’t about to let his cover get blown by some stupid first year. Grabbing up a couple bottles of pinot he prepared himself to head back to the commons. People were probably started to mill in, drawn like moths to light by the music and the smell of alcohol. That would ease his anxiety for sure. If he could get to where he was surrounded by people then he would be fine.

                “Need any help?”

                Eliot looked up, managing a small smile. Of course Margo would come looking for him. He let out a sigh of relief and handed her a bottle. “I’m fine,” he assured her, trying to ease any well-meaning concern she may have had. “Besides, I have a boy to seduce,” he added, faking optimism.

                Margo clearly didn’t believe him but she wasn’t pushing. Instead she cradled her bottle of wine like a baby and took his hand. “Then let’s go and make a beautiful, tragic disaster.”

                “A sad, beautiful, tragic love affair,” he said, completely deadpanned.

It helped just having Margo there. She was, in so many ways, his entire family. He didn’t know if she felt like they were family, but that was how it had always felt to him. There were very few times in life that you found someone that understood you, someone that you could just hold hands with and not even think about it.

Eliot had been right about people deciding to wander in. The common room was alive with people starting to drink and someone had taken the liberty of turning the music up. The moment with Alice was forgotten as Eliot was swept up in party mode. He didn’t have much time to look for Quentin as he was almost immediately bombarded with drink requests. Sometimes he would complain to Margo that he was always behind the bar and therefore rarely got to actually enjoy a party, and Margo, sweet kind Margo, never called him out on being a liar. He could make drinks, drinks made people happy, ergo he was making people happy. No one ever called him a ‘good boy’ when he made drinks, making it completely safe. Usually the praise was just being told he was ‘awesome’ or ‘fucking perfect’. It was one of the rare moments when everyone in the room liked him.

Time moved differently behind the bar. He shifted between mixing, drinking, and inventing things for people who didn’t know what they wanted. His face was flushed both from working and the alcohol blush. By the time he abruptly decided that it was last call from him the sky outside was black. Several people had switched over to just drinking out of the bottle.. A few early birds had already passed out on each out, a couple was arguing loudly in the corner (“I mean, I hate you, but I’m still gonna suck your dick later because you’re _still_ cute,” a girl was saying in a voice a little too loud to be appropriate), and Alice Quinn, still holding her French 75 was looking over the bookshelf. Eliot put his plan to find Quentin on hold for a moment, deciding that he felt enough like himself to talk to the Dom.

 “You know,” he said, sneaking up behind Alice and taking the thin glass from her hands, “most people don’t spend a party looking at books. I’ll admit, there are some interesting ones here, but that’s really not the point of tonight.”

Alice blinked at him, relinquishing her hold on the glass. “They’re out of order.”

“Pardon?”

“Your books. They’re not in any semblance of order. It’s goes from Fitzgerald to Callahan right here. There’s no pattern here.”

Eliot took a sip of her 75 and covered his mouth so as not to immediately gag. It was room temperature and she had apparently been carrying the same drink around all night. As she looked at the books he poured it into the nearest plastic houseplant.  “No, actually, it’s in perfect order. See, that’s Tamara Fitzgerald and Sampson Callahan.”

Alice turned back and looked at him. “I’m not entirely sure I follow the logic.”

“They’re arranged by third letter of author’s first name,” he told her as though it was obvious. “It really keeps them from arguing, trust me on this one. The system is so much easier since we started doing it this way.” Alice hadn’t been here long enough to know. She had never come downstairs to find shelves knocked over and pages littering the floor. If she got it in her head that she was going to arrange the books in what she deemed a more sensible order then she would learn and Eliot truly looked forward to that.

“That makes…little or no sense.”

“What makes no sense is a girl at a party without a drink. Here, just a moment.” He turned back to the bar, grabbing up a bottle of blackberry Merlot, filling a cup with a generous portion. “There we are.”

Alice hesitated in taking it, smelling the drink first. “I’m…not really much of a drinker.”

Sympathetically, Eliot patted her on the shoulder. “We all start somewhere. Now, that should be a good place to start.”

She took a small sip, crinkling her nose a bit before relaxing as the sweetness settled in. “Okay, that’s…that’s very good. Thank—“

“Say no more,” he said, waving her off quickly. “Instead of thanking me you can answer a question. You haven’t seen Quentin around lately, have you?” Between bartending and explaining the books Eliot had managed to lose the boy.

Alice lifted her hand and pointed across the room. Eliot wanted to say that Quentin was sitting in a chair but that was completely untrue. He was, technically, in the chair but he was sitting with one leg pulled underneath him and one knee pressed against his chest, both arms wrapped around that one leg. His eyes were wide and intensely focused on a game in front of him.

“He’s been watching them for about an hour. Margo keeps bringing him drinks and he’s not even questioning it. Someone needs to watch that one, he’s going to get himself into trouble.”

“Not to worry, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Eliot promised her with a grin.

“You don’t think that would upset Margo?” Alice asked so casually that it almost threw Eliot off completely.

He choked a little on his wine before turning to her. “ _Margo_ ,” he repeated, on the cusp of laughing. “Why would Margo care what I do with a first year Sub?”

Alice squinted up at him, her brows furrowed as though she was trying to figure him out. “Are you not…” She paused, quickly looking away. “Sorry, with the way that the two of you behaved together I assumed that she was your Dominant. I didn’t realise that it was just a friendship. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I lot of people allow their friends to act as Dominants, I just thought—”

“Oh, Alice,” he said, sighing and smiling. “We’ve only just met, there’s so much for you to learn about me. The first being that I don’t do Doms. Now then, if you’ll excuse me, I have plans for this evening. Ta.”

Eliot loosened his tie as he walked away, leaving a bewildered Alice behind him. She knew way too much for her own good, that was for sure, and Eliot couldn’t even be angry at her over that. She seemed smart, observant, and a nice change from most of the people he had met at Brakebills.

 Slipping up onto the arm of the chair Eliot put a hand on Quentin’s shoulder. “Hey, enjoying the show here?”

Quentin jumped slightly but went right back to watching the four people on the sofa twisting their fingers and collapsing into fits of giggles and taking shots. “Yeah, I’m not entirely sure what they’re doing here, but it look—“

“Magical,” Eliot finished. “It is, technically. Not very impressive magic, mind you. It’s more like a magical game of HORSE,” he explained, slipping into the chair beside Quentin. Quentin wasn’t exactly small and neither was Eliot. Fortunately, Eliot didn’t actually take up that much space considering how skinny he was. “Anyway, it’s really boring now that Margo and I are banned from it.”

“You’re banned because you kept cheating,” a dark haired boy yelled before taking a shot.

“Yes, losers often claim the winners cheat,” Eliot said and rolled his eyes.

Quentin awkwardly took a sip of his third cosmopolitan. “So, you weren’t cheating?”

“They called it cheating, but it wasn’t,” Eliot explained.

The dark haired boy turned around again. “Setting someone on fire is cheating, Waugh!”

“Um, excuse you, no, it’s not. First of all there’s nothing in the rules about starting fires and, secondly, you can’t actually prove that Margo or I had anything to do with that. It’s not my fault that you’re distracted by being on fire. You should know how to calmly handle a crisis.”

The boy frowned and rolled his eyes. “You’re still banned and we’re all glad,” he said before turning back around.

Eliot smiled and looked back to Quentin. “We’re not banned because of the fire, we’re banned because we kept winning and they couldn’t handle that.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes more sense…” Quentin mumbled.

It was clear by now that Quentin was not a seasoned drinker. He was swaying slightly in the chair and his eyes were going bleary. Eliot was only about half lit at this point, which was surprising to him. Usually this far into a party he was the centre of attention, making sure everyone knew he was there or singing duets with Margo, their voices off and out of sync. “Where’d your friend go,” he asked Quentin, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Oh, um…your, well…I think it was Margo…yeah, Margo said something about shoes, I think.”

Eliot made a mental note to make Margo some of those little coconut truffles she liked so well. “Well, this music is a bit loud. Want to go somewhere a little quieter for a bit?”

“Oh, um, it’s fine. I don’t really mind. Besides, this game is pretty cool to watch.”

This would have been so much easier if Quentin had been able to tell when someone was flirting with him. Eliot took a breath and refrained from rolling his eyes. “This isn’t even very impressive magic. Honestly, this is all the boring stuff that you learn in class. Boring, everyday magic.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever find magic boring,” Quentin told him. “I’ve waited my whole life to be here, magic can’t get boring.”

So young and naïve. Quentin was still the type of person who believed that magic could come from love and that a mother’s love could actually save someone. Reaching down Eliot took Quentin’s hand, pulling him out of the chair. “Let me show you something actually impressive,” he said, his voice low and husky. “It’ll be a lot better than a few simple tricks that anyone can do.”

It seemed that Quentin was starting to understand what was happening. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he was acting as though he had lost the ability to speak as Eliot led him through the throngs of people in the cottage. “Believe me, if you want to see some real magic then I can show it to you.”

As Eliot led Quentin up the steps he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sadness. The younger boy looked bewildered but also excited. There would come a day when he would learn the truth about magic, a time when things wouldn’t be nearly as bright and beautiful and Eliot wouldn’t be able to impress him with little tricks anymore. So, he had to take advantage of this while the opportunity was still there, while there was still a chance.

They got to the bedroom and Eliot closed the door, shutting out the music and shrouding them in darkness. The only light came from the streetlamps outside that illuminated Quentin’s face in a dull orange halo. He looked almost celestial in Eliot’s eyes and he took a moment just to appreciate the beauty of it. “It’s…kind of, um, dark,” Quentin pointed out, his eyes scanning the room uncomfortably.

“You’re absolutely right. How about we fix this?” Eliot smiled in the darkness, ready to put his plan into action.

The room was already set up for this, it usually was just in case a perfect moment presented itself. All he had to do was perform the spell and awe would be inspired.  He took a breath, making a great show of things. His long fingers twisted delicately as the spell formed in his hands. As his fingers danced in the air a ball of yellow and orange light began to form in front of him. The more he the larger the ball became. The fireball warmed his face as it spun in the air, now about the size of a basketball. Eliot could see Quentin’s eyes going wide as he watched, the flickering flames reflecting in his irises. With one swift motion Eliot send the ball high above them where the shape began to change. It blossomed out as a flower, the petals spinning as they opened. Twisting his fingers again the petals slowly fell off, falling gently through the air. Grinning to himself he made one quick motion before the petals hit the floor, turning them into dancing dragons that flew back up and to the dozen candles placed around the room. The moment the candles were lit the dragons twisted up towards the ceiling and vanished in a puff of smoke. The small candles from Target didn’t actually light the room much, but it certainly did set the mood.

“There, now we have a little more light to see by,” Eliot said, watching Quentin.

Eyes wide Quentin stared around the room, his mouth open. For a moment he struggled with words, opening and closing his mouth and looking remarkably like a fish. Finally, he seemed like he understood how sentences worked again. “That was just like in Lord—why do you have so many candles in here?”

That was _not_ the reaction that Eliot was looking for. He shook it off, rolling his eyes at Quentin. “Ambiance,” he explained simply as he took Quentin by the hand. “Come on, if you liked that then you’re going to love my bed. It’s magically engineered for optimal comfort.”

There was no actual magic in the bed, but it did work to get Quentin sitting down. Eliot couldn’t tell if Quentin was incredibly drunk or if he would just believe anything but when he sat down on the bed he looked so astounded by it. He bounced his hand against the mattress. “Wow,” he whispered quietly, his perfectly shaped lips barely moving as he spoke. Eliot tilted his head, his eyes lingering on Quentin’s perfect cupid’s bow. It seemed almost sinful for someone to have such perfect lips.

 “Is there…” Quentin reached up, self-consciously touching his mouth, “is there something on my face?”

A soft smile spread across Eliot’s lips and he leaned forward. “Not just yet.” He paused and waited to see if Quentin was going to pull away. As confident as he had been there was a part of him that had been so certain that Quentin would move back when he realised what was happening. But he didn’t. He sat there, looking at Eliot, albeit a little perplexed. Eliot leaned a little closer, testing the waters, making sure that Quentin wasn’t going to run.

After a few moments of heart pounding anticipation Eliot closed the gap between them, his lips softly meeting Quentin’s. He kept it gentle, giving the other boy plenty of opportunity to get out. When it became clear that Quentin was staying in the moment Eliot took the chance, crawling up onto his knees and locking his arms around Quentin’s neck. It was sloppy and Quentin tasted like Absolut and lemonade along with a spark of magic that was always mixed with the drinks. It was absolutely euphoric. But there was something strange to Eliot about the kiss. Quentin leaned down, giving all the control to Eliot and letting him lead it. There was no fight for dominance. Quentin didn’t reach up and twist Eliot’s hair, mixing the pain in with the pleasure. It wasn’t that the kiss wasn’t enjoyable, it was just that Eliot wasn’t used to someone submitting to him so completely and without hesitation. There was something churning in his stomach that screamed that this was wrong but he did what he could to ignore it. To get rid of the nagging in his brain he put his hands on Quentin’s shoulders, pushing him gently onto the bed so Eliot could straddle his legs on either side of him.

Quentin made a soft moaning as Eliot gently bit his lower lip. The sound was absolute music to Eliot. There seemed to be nothing that could spoil the moment. He could feel Quentin quivering beneath him and it seemed to quiet the voice in his brain telling him how backwards this was, how he should be the one being pushed onto the bed. His hands found their way into Quentin’s hair, his fingers getting tangled up in the messy tresses.

Quentin’s hands were gentle against Eliot’s waist, making him feel warm and safe. The delicate movements of the boy’s fingers against Eliot’s bare waist made him shiver as he moved to deepen the kiss even more. There was something calming and soothing about it, something that relaxed Eliot’s nerves and made him want to stay locked in the moment forever. Quentin wouldn’t hurt him. Eliot wasn’t even sure that Quentin was capable of hurting someone. It was harmless and, in a way that Eliot couldn’t quite explain, completely innocent.

Just when Eliot was convinced everything was perfect there was a subtle click and light flooded the room from the hallway. The bright florescent was a sudden enough intrusion that Eliot pulled away from Quentin and squinted to see what in the world dared to interrupt his moment.

“A bit busy, Miss Quinn,” Eliot said, sitting up just enough that he could face Alice.

“Yes, I can see that,” she said, her voice tinged with annoyance. “Get off of him.”

There was a certain authority in her voice that almost made Eliot move immediately. Thankfully he had almost trained himself to ignore a stern voice. “Sorry, wasn’t aware that you were now the Make-Out Police. I’ll need to see your badge and then I’ll consider cooperating.”

Alice just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Quentin is drunk, that means that this is completely unfair to him.”

Why did she have to have an actual point? Eliot wasn’t planning on sleeping with Quentin, not right then. That could have waited for later, when they were both a little more sober or, at the very least, Quentin was. He gritted his teeth. “Quentin is an adult, Alice, in an adult situation. Drunk or not he can decide who he wants to kiss.”

“He can when he’s sober. Look, I’m only here to make sure this doesn’t happen. There was a promise involved.”

“You’re here for a party. Now, why don’t you go enjoy that party?”

With a sigh Alice rubbed her face with her hand and walked over. It didn’t take very much effort for her to push Eliot over off Quentin. He had been balanced precariously anyway and didn’t weigh anything. He fell over, thankfully just landing on the other side of the bed. Alice took Quentin by the hand, pulling him up and helping him to stand.

“Quentin, go wait in the hallway, please,” she said before turning to Eliot. “I’m going to find Julia. You stay in here and _don’t_ follow Quentin.” Her voice became a fair bit sterner when she spoke to Eliot.

Eliot huffed, pushing himself up to sit up again. Quentin hadn’t said anything during this whole exchange and was standing there, looking as though he couldn’t believe anything was real anymore.

“Oh, whatever, ruin everyone’s moment of fun,” Eliot said, shaking his head and reaching over to flip on the bedroom light. “Quentin, we’ll finish this later, promise.”

Quentin looked between Alice and Eliot, unsure what to do. “I never really thought that I was gay before,” he finally said, his fingers rubbing at his swollen lips. “Huh…I think I need to think about this.”

“You’re very drunk,” Alice told him, “and quite probably bisexual, but that’s really something that you need to figure out during a time of sobriety. Come on, let’s go find Julia. Eliot, please, stay here, I need to get Quentin home.”

Rolling his eyes Eliot flopped down on the bed. Everything had been going so well. Quentin had certainly seemed into everything that was happening, he hadn’t tried to leave anyway and that was something. Eliot wished that he could be angry at Alice, but he was mostly just annoyed. She was being a decent friend, doing whatever she had promised to do. There was nothing inherently wrong in that. He couldn’t even be angry that she had tried to casually Dom him like he was a snivelling Sub. It was just what some Doms did, and Eliot could collectively hate society for that. He wasn’t sure how he felt towards Alice at that point. What he was sure of was that he wasn’t letting her tell him what to do and he wasn’t staying in that room.

**Margo**

The night had been absolutely exhausting and Margo could only hope that Eliot was aware of how much work had gone into making everything perfect. He barely seemed to notice half of the things she had done. It had started when he had been mixing drinks and had absently sat a cigarette down on the table and by the time Margo noticed it the table was charred. Then there had been the problem of relaxing Quentin. He was so close with Julia that he had just followed her around like a lost puppy, which was adorable but not conducive to Plan Get Eliot Laid. So, Margo had taken a page out of Eliot’s book. There were certain glasses that were kept hidden in the back of the bar that would infinitely refill. So, Quentin never actually ran out of drink and never seemed to realise how much he was drinking.

Julia had been the biggest problem and Margo was embarrassed to admit that it took her nearly a full three minutes to figure out how to get them apart. Taking notice of Julia’s Jimmy Choo’s Margo had found the ultimate distraction. Anyone who was wearing a pair of this season’s shoes would probably be more than happy to see Margo’s extensive shoe collection. This was _not_ where she wanted to be. She wanted to be downstairs, drinking and making jokes with Eliot. And yet…

“You have a lot of men’s clothes,” Julia commented as she explored Margo’s closet.

Margo was laid out on her bed, propped up on one elbow, watching and wishing that she was downstairs. “They aren’t men’s clothes if I’m wearing them,” she pointed out. “Also, half of whatever is in there is Eliot’s.”

“He keeps his clothes in your closet?”

“Well, yes. I mean, what if he falls asleep in here and has class in the morning? It would be ridiculous to walk _all_ the way down the hall to his room. It’s why I keep clothes there. Too much effort in that.”

“Huh. Okay then,” Julia said before going back to flipping through the clothes. “So, you’ve been at Brakebills for a while, right?”

Margo shrugged. “You could say that. I’ve been through probably everything that you’ll go through. Why?”

“I’m just wondering.” Julia stopped pushing through outfits and turned around, her mouth trying to smile but it looked more like a grimace. “I don’t have a lot of illusions about, well, anything. Quentin is different. He’s looking at this and seeing that all of his dreams have come true and I just…I keep feeling like there’s a catch to it. It’s all too perfect, too amazing, it’s everything I could want and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Does that make sense?”

Unfortunately it made perfect sense. This wasn’t the first time Margo had had this conversation. The last time she hadn’t had the answers, this time she did and that was worse. “Ma

gic is difficult,” she said simply, not wanting to divulge too much information. “That’s the real catch, Kitten. Magic isn’t all that books and television make it out to be. But, hey, if we’re all still here then it can’t be that bad, can it?”

Julia was quiet for a moment, looking down at her hands and silently processed that. “I wonder how many people here have anywhere else they can go. I mean…how could you even go back to the real world after finding out magic existed?”

Margo didn’t want to remember a lot of things. She didn’t want for a simple phrase to thrust her mind back into the past. Eliot had said something incredibly similar after Brakebills South. The isolation had almost killed him, Margo suspected that if she hadn’t been there it would have. They had sat in bed together when they had gotten back. It had started with them drinking and laughing about being birds. The tears had been a long time coming and it hadn’t taken long for laughter to turn into crying with Eliot burying his head in Margo’s shoulder. He could never go home, he had told her, because there was nothing waiting for him there. She had smoothed out his hair, promising him and promising him that he never had to go back, he had magic and there was no getting rid of it. There weren’t a lot of people that could live happily knowing that there was magic and they couldn’t learn it. Margo suspected Julia knew this as Eliot had, but she didn’t know how to respond.

Thankfully she didn’t need an answer. The door cracked open a little bit and Alice stuck her head in, focused on Julia.

“Hey,” Margo said, “need something?”

“I was looking for Julia,” she explained, pushing her glasses up. “That _thing_ you thought would happen…it sort of happened.”

Julia spun away from the closet, her face white. “Is he okay?” her voice didn’t match her expression. The mania in her eyes didn’t fit with how flat and calmly she spoke. Every syllable was punctuated so there could be no misunderstandings about what was happening.

Alice quickly nodded. “He’s fine. Well, he’s drunk and a little confused, but he’s sitting in the hallway. If you want to take him back to the dorms I can catch up in a minute. I think he would be more comfortable with you taking him.”

Nodding, Julia put back the shirt she had been looking at. “Yeah, thanks. Margo, we’ll talk later, I have to go take care of my friend.”

Well, it seemed like Eliot had gotten what he wanted. Margo only hoped he was happy about it. She figured he would probably mostly be proud that he had caused someone to go into Defence and she really couldn’t blame him for that. “Go take care of your friend.”

“Thanks.” Julia turned to leave, moving like she was on her way to commit murder. Her fists were clenched at her sides and her eyes were focused straight ahead of her as she left.

It was awkward for a moment as Alice just stood in the doorway, her lips pursed and looking very much like she wanted to say something. Margo waited patiently, wondering if she was going to leave or actually speak. “Something on your mind,” she finally said after a few seconds of heavy silence. Perhaps Alice just needed some urging.

The blonde took a breath and nodded, looking as though she was trying to choose her words carefully. “I’m not trying to pry but…but how long has it been since Eliot has had a proper Dominant?”

The question caught Margo off guard. She blinked several times, almost wondering if she had heard Alice correctly. Sure, Eliot was Submissive, but he always played top well in public. He had never had any actual problems pretending to be a Switch so she couldn’t imagine why Alice would ask. “I’m not sure he ever has had one. He doesn’t really need a Dom in his life.”

It was Alice’s turn to be perplexed. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head. “What? Of course he—A Submissive can only go for so long without a Dominant. There are so many problems with Submissives who—“

“Woah, woah, woah.” Margo held up her hand, stopping Alice short. “Problems with _what?_ I’m sorry, sweetie, I don’t know _who_ you’ve been talking to, but Eliot isn’t Submissive.”

“You’re kidding, right? Either that or you’re lying. Which, if you are, you’re endangering his health. Anyone who has taken a basic sexual education course knows that Submissives need sessions as much as Dominants do. Are you…are you seriously not aware that he’s Submissive?”

Margo could feel anger well up inside of her and it took everything she had to remain outwardly calm. Actual anger was rare for her. She could get frustrated and snap at people, but there were very few times that she actually got angry. It almost always came from people messing with her Eliot. “What on earth led you to the conclusion that Eliot is Submissive?”

“I’ve known him for more than five minutes? He’s eager to please everyone around him? He’s incredibly defiant to a point where I have to wonder if anyone has ever shown him the least amount of discipline. Honestly, it seems almost like he’s looking for it at this point.”

“Stop talking,” Margo said, her voice a deadly calm as she sat up on the bed. “You can do that, right?” She paused for a moment before smiling at Alice’s silence. “Oh, good, you can. Look at that, even Doms can follow directions. You don’t know what Eliot is looking for. You don’t know Eliot.”

“I just thought—“

“Apparently they can’t.” She got to her feet, crossing the room with dangerous grace. “Everything you’ve said to me, everything you think you know, I’m going to need you to keep it to yourself. Understand that?”

“You don’t—“

“No, I do. You keep everything to yourself and we won’t have any problems. Whatever you think you know you don’t, so it would be wise of you to keep your mouth shut about all of it. Can you do that?”

Alice nodded. “I suppose since I’m being threatened—“

“No, sweetie, when you’re threatened it won’t be so subtle,” Margo told her kindly. “We can be friends, you and I, but you don’t repeat anything else to anyone. You seem like a very smart person and I feel like we can keep this secret.”

“Fine,” Alice said, looking up and meeting Margo’s gaze. “I won’t tell anyone else about Eliot. It’ll stay here and no one will—“

“What.”

“Do you interrupt everyone or am I special?”

Margo felt her stomach go cold. Something about what Alice said bothered her more than she liked. “There was a modifier in there. You said ‘anyone else’. What do you mean by anyone _else_?”

Alice was quiet for a moment, breaking eye contact. Margo almost thought Alice looked ashamed. “I mentioned it to Quentin when I was settling him down. I wasn’t sure what two Subs would do together and I was a bit…curious.”

“Let’s hope he’s too drunk to remember that,” Margo said, holding onto that hope. Quentin had been pretty drunk the last time she had seen him. She just prayed that he didn’t say anything stupid before he sobered up. “Where’s Eliot now?”

“Well, I told him to stay in his room.”

“Thanks, that tells me where he’s _not_.”

“Yeah, that makes sense….like I said, he seems like he’s begging for discipline. I know you’re not his Dominant, but you seem to be the closest thing he has. So maybe…maybe you can—“

“He doesn’t need discipline. But I’ll make sure he gets exactly what he needs whenever he gets back.” What he would most likely need was just someone there so he wasn’t alone and Margo was almost always willing to provide that. “Alice, go back to your dorm. Read your books, forget about the Submissive.”

Apparently the reference was lost on Alice because she just nodded and stepped back from the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Just take care of Quentin, I’ll take care of Eliot,” Margo told her. She moved past the blonde, her anger subsiding a little.

She knew that Alice wasn’t trying to out Eliot, she wasn’t trying to hurt him. It was just that she was the type of Dominant that thought every Submissive needed someone. The worst part was that she wasn’t entirely wrong about Eliot. He did need someone, Margo knew that. He needed to actually let himself be himself for a minute and let go of his fears and reservations. To a degree she could help him with that and she wished that she believed that was enough. She wished that she could be what he needed, but she wasn’t, not yet anyway. She couldn’t be the one to discipline him or help him with the bigger things. Maybe one day, but they weren’t even close to being there yet.

Eliot’s room was as empty as she had anticipated. There weren’t very many rules at the cottage, but she could clearly see that he had broken the No Fire Magic Inside rule. There was no point in reminding him of this rule. He would just roll his eyes and say the word ‘Ambiance’ as though that was a reason. All Margo could do was blow the candles out so the cottage didn’t burn down. She laid herself down in Eliot’s bed, curling up and waiting for him to get back. The sounds of the party downstairs echoed in her ears, reminding her that everyone else was having more fun than she was. He was going to owe her one hell of a shopping trip after this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

**Eliot**

It was almost four in the morning when Eliot finally walked back across campus. Technically, he hadn’t been stalking anyone Sure, he had gone to Quentin’s room but he had become immediately distracted with rifling through drawers to see if there was anything interesting. Oh, and there was. Currently he was heading home with his pockets full of pills. Some of them he recognised, some he didn’t, but he was pretty sure that was an Adderall he had taken. Maybe Quentin was a little more adventurous than he had thought.

There was something magical about walking across campus in the very early hours of the morning. The only sounds came from a screech owl somewhere in the forest and his own shoes sinking into the dew covered grass with every step. It was one of the only times he was alone without feeling lonely. Or, perhaps that was caused in part by the mixture of drugs and alcohol swimming in his system. He hummed softly to himself, not in any particular hurry. Quentin was probably curled up, sleeping off everything.

All things considered Eliot passed this off as a win for the evening. He had managed to make-out with a boy who wasn’t unattractive and he managed to get some drugs. All in all it had been a pretty decent party. Definitely in the top forty anyway. With a twist of his hand Eliot opened the front door to the cottage and slipped inside. There was no point in trying to be quiet as everyone seemed to be passed out. He stepped around sleeping bodies, walking behind the bar to grab a bottle of Crown Royal to take upstairs with him.

“Definitely Adderall,” he muttered to himself as he climbed the steps. The pill had eradicated his previous exhaustion. He couldn’t help but wonder what else was in this little bag.

When he got to his room he went to Margo without hesitation and sat down, gently nudging her in the shoulder. “I got something.”

Margo hadn’t been completely asleep but she had seemed to be right on the cusp of it. Groaning she brought her head out of the pillow, blinking in the darkness. “Just tell me it’s not alive,” she mumbled through a yawn.

Eliot shook his head and flicked on the side table light before bringing out the bag of pills. “Not this time. It looks like Quentin is going to fit in with us better than we anticipated. Different dosages and scripts, definitely either bought or stolen,” he said as he dug through the bag. “Adderall, Ritalin, Concerta, so many stimulants, and oh! That’s a Valium! I like those—“

With impressive reflexes Margo took the pill from his hand and turned it over before nodding to herself. “You already took an Adderall, didn’t you?”

“Oh, sorry, did you forget me while I was gone for an hour?”

“That’s safe to take with Adderall. Might calm you down a bit,” she said before handing the pill back and laying back down.

Shrugging, Eliot popped the pill in his mouth and kept digging through the prescriptions. “More ADHD meds, oh, Oxy, that’s not a bad one either. And…and I don’t think these are Quentin’s,” he said, his face falling as he took out a bottle.

“Hmm?”

“These are for defence, right? These are the ones you have, aren’t they? Margo, look at it and tell me I’m right.”

Margo sat up, her eyes narrowed. “I love you dearly, but if I don’t sleep tonight then I might accidentally murder you,” she warned as she took the bottle. “Yeah, these aren’t Quentin’s unless he’s incredibly secretly a Dom and I that doesn’t seem right.”

Eliot took the bottle back and turned it over in his hands. Well, some stranger somewhere was going to be in a rage in a few hours. Thankfully, that wasn’t his problem. He checked out the name on the bottle, feeling like he had seen the it before but having no idea where. “Well, poor William, I guess he should hide his drugs better. I wonder if he has more…I wonder if he can get more….”

“And I wonder if I’ll get anything even resembling sleep tonight.”

“I mean, honestly, who hides their drugs in a desk drawer?”

“You do.”

“Not really the point I was making. Besides, I hide a lot of drugs a lot of places. That’s being smart. Putting so many in one place is idiotic,” Eliot pointed out as he stashed in drugs in the false bottom of his drawer.

“Eliot. Keeping me awake is idiotic.”

“Although, I’m not complaining—“

“I am,” Margo said into the pillow.

“It was a really good find—“

“No one will ever find your body.”

“I can’t believe I even thought for a second these were Quentin’s.”

“I can’t believe you’re still talking right now.”

“Tell no one of my mistake.”

“I’ll put it in the eulogy at your funeral.”

“Margo, I feel like you’re not even listening to me.”

Once again Margo brought her head out of the pillow, murder in her eyes. “Eliot, I love you and I’m happy you’re happy right now and, believe me, I want to hear all about your night. But,” she reached out, smacking him lightly on the nose, “boop. Go to bed or at least be quiet so _I_ can go to bed.”

Pouting, Eliot laid down, letting Margo snuggle back into the pillows and throw an arm around him. He wasn’t nearly tired enough to sleep but all he could do was lie there and stare at the ceiling. It was a very familiar position and he was getting quite tired of it. Margo’s breathing evened out beside him and he was still glaring at the wine stain. It didn’t take long before he was squirming away from Margo and pushing the blankets back. He couldn’t just sit in the bed all night and pretend to be asleep, he had to do something, _anything._

“Where go,” Margo mumbled, her voice muffled.

Eliot didn’t bother answering. Margo was asleep anyway and probably wouldn’t remember the conversation. He slipped a cigarette between his lips and headed back downstairs, unsure what he was going to do with his evening. He looked around the living room, trying to find a place to sit and eventually just moved a sleeping boy  over on the sofa, taking the Perdue hat off his head to use as an ashtray.

It had been a long night and he was regretting the Adderall. It might have been nice to actually sleep. The Valium kept his heart from racing and mixed with the alcohol was actually all quiet nice. It was, technically, a deadly cocktail; however, Eliot was growing more and more suspicious each day that he couldn’t actually die despite his best efforts.

What had happened to his plans for the night? The goal had been that, by now, he would be happily laid and floating in some kind or post-coital bliss. Instead he was sitting, alone, smoking and looking around for a bottle that had something in it. It was so rare that he was the last person awake. It was even rarer for him to be one of the more sober people at the end of the night. It was truly tragic, he thought as he leaned forward to pick up a half full bottle of Lucky Red.

He would need to come up with a new plan, that much was certain. If he ever wanted to sleep with Quentin then he had to figure out a way to keep both Julia and, apparently, Alice away from him. As far as he knew Alice’s only connection to Quentin was that she was Julia’s roommate. It wasn’t like she had any reason to care about what he did and what he didn’t do. She certainly didn’t have anything authority over Eliot. The more he thought about it the more he won imaginary arguments in his head and the more clever he thought he could have been before. The wine went down smoothly, making his brain fuzzy as he replayed the conversation again and again in his head.

 

**Quentin**

At first everything felt like it had to have been a dream. That…nothing about that could have possibly been real. There were vague memories of fire dragons dancing through the sky and drinks that sparkled in the darkness and tasted like colors. Everything had been so bright, like every colour was sharpened. Then the memory of lips on his came into his mind, a gentle hand wrapped up in his hair as they fell back on the bed. He could still taste Eliot on his lips, gin and cigarettes lingering in the aftermath. Quentin rubbed at his eyes, unsure how he even felt about remembering this. Was he gay? He had never thought about it before. Was it a big deal if he was? Maybe he was just a little bit gay? But there was something else that bothered him about the whole situation.

Wait. What was it Alice had said to him? Something like ‘What would two subs even do together?’ Oh, right, because Eliot was a sub. That was the part that had confused Quentin so much. Maybe he hadn’t known Eliot long, but the boy didn’t act like any submissive that Quentin had ever met. Maybe Alice was wrong about Eliot? This was something to ask Julia about, he decided as he sat up. He didn’t want to think too much about it, not before breakfast anyway.

“Man. What the actual fuck?”

Quentin blinked and turned. His roommate was sitting up in the bed, brows furrowed and arms crossed. “I didn’t—“

“Shut up. Seriously. What the fuck kind of shit did you get into last night?” Before Quentin could even answer Penny held up his hand, stopping him. “Don’t. God, you need to keep your damn brain shut before someone shuts it for you.”

Quentin quickly tried to think about anything but the previous night. It seemed like the harder he tried not to think about it the louder his thoughts about it were. He couldn’t help but wonder why Eliot would pretend not to be a submissive. How did he get, well, anything that way? Did he just make out with other submissives? Was that normal? It didn’t make sense to hide something like that, not to Quentin anyway. People seemed so accepting here anyway. Was it something to actually be so ashamed of that you had to hide it from everyone? It wasn’t like it had been a decades ago. subs could do anything a Dom could do. They could go to college, they could get any job they wanted. It wasn’t a source for shame anymore…was it?

“Shut the fuck up,” Penny snapped as he pulled open his bedside drawer, making a great show of taking out books and dropping them loudly on the floor. “If you can’t do that then get the hell out because I’m not going to sit here and listen to you have some kind of dumbass crisis ‘cause you kissed some dude.”

Leaving was probably the best option then. Quentin slinked out of the bed, keeping a watchful eye on Penny as he moved away. Grabbing his hoodie he headed for the door, deciding that he could go to Julia’s room and maybe get something for his head and also ask her advice on the Eliot situation. Right when he started to open the door there was a loud _bang_.

Penny had slammed his hand against the door, brown eyes locked on Quentin.

Whatever Penny said Quentin didn’t hear. His ears were ringing from the noise and his head was absolutely pounding. Wincing as though he had been hit Quentin raised his hands and covered his ears. “What,” he mumbled as he quietly wondered what God he had pissed off to deserve this.

“My shit,” Penny repeated, his voice slow and intense, “did you take it?”

“What shi—I’ve barely been in here? What shit would I have taken?”

“Ya know, the first thing you ever asked me was if I stole your shit. Now you’re acting like you don’t even know thievery is a thing. There’s a saying about thieves thinking everybody else is a thief.”

“Wha-what’s the saying?”

Penny paused and narrowed his eyes before shaking his head. “Man, fuck if I know. You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

“No…I don’t…glad you noticed?”

Penny walked back to his bed, tearing the bedding off. Quentin figured this was the best time for him to fuck right on off. He left while Penny was tearing the room part looking for…whatever he was looking for. Quentin couldn’t wait until he was able to move out of these dorms. He only hoped that he didn’t end up somewhere else with Penny. Maybe Penny would be better whenever he found whatever he was looking for. Maybe not.

As he knocked on Julia’s door he smiled slightly. It was such a normal thing just to knock on a door before going into a room and he remembered how baffled Eliot had been by the concept. His smile faded slightly as he thought about how Eliot also seemed baffled by doorknobs and personal space. He was a strange boy, Quentin thought as he waited. Very strange, but certainly friendly. Quentin wasn’t quite sure where they went from here, but he figured he would just wait and see.

Opening the door Julia gave him a smile and ushered him inside, getting aspirin and water for him and setting him down on the bed. He settled down, no longer under the threat of Penny getting angry. Julia’s room was quiet and it was a nice escape. The bed smelled like lavender and he was almost certain that he could fall asleep right there.

“So, last night,” Julia said, lying down beside him and staring up at the ceiling.

“It was nice,” he said, letting his eyes close as they talked. “I think I made out with Eliot. Did I make out with Eliot?”

“It was more like Eliot made out with you,” Julia clarified. “Alice got you out of there, though. You alright?”

Oh, so he was remembering right. Alice had been there. “Yeah, it’s fine. I mean…it wasn’t bad, actually.”

Julia turned her head, looking Quentin over a bit confused. “You were drunk, Quentin. What he did was, well, it was kind of predatory.”

“Wasn’t he drunk?”

“That doesn’t….” She paused and sighed, brushing back her hair. “We barely know him. You don’t just…do that with someone you barely know.”

That seemed a bit unfair, Quentin thought. It wasn’t like Eliot was a complete stranger. Besides that, people made out with strangers in bars all the time when they were drunk, so you could do that with a stranger. “Well, Alice said he couldn’t _really_ do anything,” Quentin said with a shrug.

Rolling her eyes Julia propped her head up on her hand. “From what I heard he was certainly trying to do something. Quentin, you can’t just trust people like that.”

“Julia, it’s fine—“

“It’s not _fine_ , Quentin. He could have seriously hurt you.”

“No, he couldn’t.”

Julia sat up on the bed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Quentin, you’ve known him less than a day and he got you drunk in an attempt to sleep with you. That’s so dangerous. You have no idea what he could have done.”

“He couldn’t have _done_ anything,” Quentin said defensively and moved to sit up. “You don’t understand—“

“Quentin, stop.”

“No, Julia, stop.”

“I’ll stop when you stop defending him!”

“Eliot is a _sub_ , he couldn’t _do_ anything so stop.” The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.  He didn’t even think about it, not really. All he wanted was for Julia to stop accusing Eliot of wanting to do something terrible.

Julia was quiet for a moment, apparently processing this information. “What did you just say?”

Quentin shrugged, settling down a bit. He wasn’t sure that he should have told Julia, but maybe it would help her be friends with Eliot. He hoped so. “Alice said he was a submissive. I mean, okay, it doesn’t make sense and I don’t know but—“

“It makes perfect sense,” Julia said. “Did he tell you this?”

“Uh, no Alice did,” he said, suddenly feeling like he had done something very wrong. “He, uh, he said he was a Switch. So, um, I don’t think we’re supposed to mention it really. I think he’s embarrassed by it for some reason.”

“Oh, of course we won’t mention it. Not a word.” Julia was smiling, which worried Quentin more than a little. “That explains so much.”

“It doesn’t explain why he’s embarrassed by it. I mean, I’ve never had a problem being a submissive. Does he think that people are going to, I don’t know, act differently if they knew?” It bothered him, it really did. He had never really had a problem with where he was in life. It wasn’t like he started conversations with ‘I’m Quentin, I’m nervous around strange cats and also I’m a submissive’. It didn’t really come up that often

Julia sighed and put a hand in Quentin’s hair. “Don’t worry about Eliot. He doesn’t seem quite right. C’mon, we should go to class before we’re late.”

Quentin was still confused, but he was starting to feel like that was his default state of being now. “Where is Alice?”

“Library. She’ll probably be in class. C’mon, Q, it’s almost ten.” 

How long had he been asleep? Quentin looked over at the clock and groaned. They did need to get to class, but his head was still throbbing and all his clothes were back in the room with Penny. So, he was going to have to go to class in his hoodie and last night’s clothes. Well, he was certain he had worn worse in the past. It didn’t matter what he was wearing. All that really mattered to him was that he was going to class, magic class. Like Harry Potter or Merlin or Thom Trebond. He got to learn magic. “I know I seem exhausted and that’s because I am but, honestly, I am so excited about this right now.”

“About what?”

“Class. It’s…it’s magic class,” he reminded her as though she might have forgotten. “We’re going to go to class to learn magic. This is real. This is our life, this is amazing.”

 

 

 

**Eliot**

At some point in his drinking and overthinking he must have fallen asleep because the next thing Eliot knew he was in his bed. As his eyes adjusted to the light he found himself staring at the same damn wine stain. There was a throbbing in his head that threatened to kill him even after he put his pillow over his face and blocked out the sunlight. This was absolutely terrible, he so rarely got a hangover and now he remembered why. There was an irritating clicking noise that was about to drive him insane and he pushed the pillow tighter around his face.

“Margo. Please. No noise.”

The clicking stopped and Eliot swore he could _hear_ Margo smile as she closed her computer. “Oh, are you awake now?”

He groaned. “No. I’m dead. Or dying. I’m fairly certain that death would be far better than what I’m currently dealing with. This is dying.”

“Better make your last words good ones.”

“I should’ve slept with more people.”

Margo hummed and moved across the room. “Those are pretty shitty as far as last words go. I’m more a fan of Margaret Sanger’s ‘A Party! Let’s have a party!’”

Eliot’s only response was to make a small whimper in hopes of reminding Margo that he was still in pain. When he felt the mattress dip with her weight he shifted himself so that he could put his head in her lap, pillow still over his face. “Play with my hair and tell me I’m pretty.”

“Please, you know you’re very pretty,” Margo said as she ran her fingers through Eliot’s hair. It probably would have been easier to do without the pillow in the way, but he didn’t seem willing to part with it.  “You’re smart enough, you’re good enough, and doggone it people like you.”

“I didn’t ask for Daily Affirmations. Oh, wait, no, I guess I did.”

“Mmhmm, and I’m indulging you. Poor thing. Poor, poor Eliot.”

“Now I feel like you’re being sarcastic. Do we have anything that will take care of a hangover?” It felt like it had been forever since he had suffered from this terrible ailment.

“Not since you pissed off everyone at the Healing Cottage by stealing their mirror. Which reminds me: why did you take that?”

Eliot shrugged because he really couldn’t remember. It was a perfectly horrible mirror that showed you everything inside of you. Perhaps it had been cool and interesting when he had been stoned, but now it was covered by a blanket because it frankly creeped everyone out. No one seemed to like to walk through the corridor and accidentally see their organs. “I will actually die. Tell Quentin that, had he only stayed, I may have lived. Let him live with that guilt.”

“When you die I’ll wear a black veil over my face and stand out on the widow’s walk of my house, staring out into the ocean for hours every day. ‘Margo,’ they’ll say, ‘she used to be the storm, now she simply weathers it.’ They’ll try to comfort me and I’ll silently turn away from them. It will be very, very sad. Quentin will become a monk, choosing to be celibate because if he can’t fuck the King of Brakebills then he’ll fuck no one.”

Finally, Eliot tore the pillow away from his face to stare up at Margo. “You are so dramatic. Although, I think your usage of the word ‘fuck’ ruined the flow of your prose.”

“Hey, at least I tried. Did you at least have a good night last night? You have no idea how difficult it was to set all of that up.”

Letting his eyes flutter closed Eliot drew up the memory of the previous night. It was a bit blurry, but the bits he remembered made him smile. “I had the most fun a person can have with their clothes on. I mean, it could have gone better, but I have an entire year to get Quentin to that point. Honestly, he’s not a terrible kisser. I really expected him to be a lot worse at it. He wasn’t bad. A bit Submissive, but—“

“Eliot, you’re—“

“Don’t say it,” Eliot told her. “I’m _barely_ Submissive.”

Margo didn’t say anything for a moment, she just kept carding her fingers through Eliot’s hair. It was a little worrying when Margo was quiet, thinking her words over. “Did anything happen with you and Alice last night,” she finally asked.

Eliot scrunched up his nose. He vaguely remembered Alice coming in and being annoying. “I believe she attempted to Dom me and then I went and stole drugs out of spite. No, wait, I stole drugs because I wanted them not for spite, that’s right. Sorry, it’s all a little fuzzy. Why? Did she do something? Do we hate her now? Just put it on the list so I don’t forget.”

“No, no, I don’t think we hate her,” Margo told him and Eliot could feel her relax underneath him. “I was just checking, making certain she didn’t do anything.”

“If she had I would have told you about it.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Margo said instantly. “You would have gone out and gotten high, which is exactly what you did last night. So, I wanted to make sure.”

Opening his eyes again Eliot looked up at her, brow raised. “If you assumed I would lie to you—which, surprisingly, I’m not—then why would you ask me in the first place?”

“Because you can lie to everyone but me,” she explained. “You have a tell.”

“I do _not_ have a tell.”

“Yes you do.”

“What is it?”

“If I let you know then you’ll stop doing it. So, I guess you’ll just have to figure that one out on your own. Oh, don’t pout; it’s so unbecoming of you.”

Eliot hadn’t even realised that he _was_ pouting. It seemed entirely unfair for Margo to know something about him that he didn’t know. Just to make certain she was fully aware of how upset he was he reached for his pillow with the intention of putting it back over his face. Before he had the chance Margo grabbed it up.

“No. You need to go shower. You smell like sweat and first years.”

“I know, intoxicating, isn’t it?”

“Your accent makes you pronounce nauseating really oddly.”

“Margo, I’m dying, you _have_ to be nice to be. That’s the rule. You spare cruelty on the dying.”

With a scoff, Margo got off the bed and helped Eliot up, ignoring his groans and whimpers of protest.  “Shower, eat something, drink water and then maybe you’ll feel less like you’re dying. Want a shower merlot?”

“If I ever say ‘no’ to a shower merlot then you can safely assume I’m possessed by something demonic.”

“Of course. Now go so I can fill you in on everything you missed during class and you can roll your eyes and ignore me.” She gave him a very light swat on the ass to get him moving, grinning at his faux-hurt expression.

Eliot instinctively covered his bottom with his hand even though he knew good and well that Margo wasn’t going to actually smack him again. “Quick question though, you asked about Alice. Why?”

Margo shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Did she say something about me?”

“Not exactly. It’s not a problem, don’t worry. Margo took care of it like Margo takes care of everything.”

Eliot frowned and watched his friend as she went back to the bed, grabbing a book up off the nightstand. Something had definitely happened, the only question was what. Whatever it was Margo didn’t seem worried about it and Alice hadn’t really done anything to him. Maybe it was just Margo being protective. “You have a tell too,” he said before turning and heading towards the shower.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

**Eliot**

There was a problem. There was a big problem and Eliot was almost certain that this problem would end the world if it wasn’t taken care of immediately. He had already torn apart the kitchen, the wine cellar, his room, and now he was working on Margo’s room.  The dresser drawers were all pulled out, he had thrown the bedding on the floor, and half the clothes from the closet were strewn around. He stood in a mess of shoes and clothing, hands on his face as he struggled to collect himself. This couldn’t be happening, it just absolutely couldn’t.

All he wanted was a nice evening with just a few people. Quentin had seemed, well, distracted by something lately and Eliot wasn’t going to ask what that something was. What he was going to do was make Quentin forget about whatever it was that was bothering him. It had been a week since the last party and they hadn’t talked about what happened. It was hard to tell if Quentin was too awkward to talk about it or if Eliot just didn’t want to. Eliot didn’t like talking things out in general, he greatly preferred action over thinking. So, his plan was to have a small get-together and just get Quentin relaxed and see where the night led. But everything was falling apart.

Eliot was rifling under the bed when he heard the door click open. Quickly he wiggled himself out and stood up, ignoring the horror-stricken look on Margo’s face. “We have a problem,” he told her.

Looking around the room wide-eyed Margo nodded in agreement. “Yeah, yeah we do. Eliot, I’m going to ask this once: What the fuck?”

“We’re out of scotch,” he explained as he stepped over the war-zone of scattered outfits. “I’ve checked every single hiding place I can think of. While I did find a half empty bottle of Xanax and three missing flasks I’m certain, at this point, that there’s no scotch anywhere in here.”

Margo blinked and stared at him, tilting her head. She was quiet for a moment as though she was hoping he would say something else. When no new words were forthcoming she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “So you…destroyed my room because you couldn’t find your scotch?”

It seemed perfectly reasonable to Eliot at the time. He was starting to suspect that he may have made a small mistake somewhere during his search, but he wasn’t entirely sure how it could have been avoided. “Yes, yes, but you’re missing the point here. Margo, there’s not any scotch in the cottage at all.” It seemed like she was purposely avoiding the crisis that was unfolding around them. The lack of scotch was about to give Eliot a panic attack.

“Eliot…” Margo stopped and looked Eliot over, taking in his shaking hands and pale face. His hair was poofed up from where he had pulled at it during his search. With a sigh Margo stepped forward and put a hand on Eliot’s shoulder, trying to give him silent reassurance. “We have some Dewar’s downstairs. It’s okay.”

That was _not_ what Eliot wanted to hear. He jerked away and rubbed his face with his hands, taking a shaky breath. “That’s scotch but not _scotch_ , Margo.” Eliot pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes until he was seeing spots. Dewar’s wasn’t what he wanted. It was decent scotch if he just wanted something get him through the night, but it wasn’t what he would break out for any kind of social engagement. It wasn’t impressive, it wasn’t a dessert scotch, it wasn’t enough. No one in the history of the world had ever been seduced by Dewar’s and Quentin probably wasn’t going to be the first.

“Hey, hey, look at me, Eliot, it’s alright,” Margo said, keeping her voice soft as she stepped toward him again. “It’s okay, we can fix it.”

“No, we can’t,” he said, turning back away from her. “Do you have any idea how…it’s not like I can just go get it. It’s not sold here and I don’t have time to pop over to London right now. I have three and a half hours before I have to be downstairs and I still need to…I can’t wear _this_ to see people!”

“Eliot,” Margo said a little more firmly. “Eliot, sit down, you’re winding yourself up.”

“Of course I am, I’m _out of scotch._ ”

“Sit,” she ordered, her voice going firm very suddenly, “on the bed, please. Sit down and breathe for a minute.”

Eliot suddenly felt very cornered and very much on the verge of a complete breakdown. Stress running high he did listen, feeling some of that tension ease as he sat on the bed. His hands shook and he clenched and unclenched his fists in an attempt to keep himself from going completely over the edge. He felt stupid sitting there, knowing that this wasn’t the type of thing a normal person would panic over. Most people would figure out an easy solution or get a substitute, but he couldn’t. It had to be perfect and if it wasn’t….He took a deep breath, his throat feeling raw and cold as he did. It hurt just to breathe, but he tried.

After giving him a moment to calm down Margo walked over and sat down on the bed beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder again. This time he didn’t pull away from the comfort. “Glenmorangie, right,” she asked, softening her tone.

Eliot opened his mouth to respond but ended up just nodding.

“Okay, alright, it’s okay. It’s nothing to panic about. Hey, no, don’t look at me like that, it’s not worth driving yourself crazy over. I can go and get a bottle. It’ll take me a little more than an hour, but I can get some. Milsean, right?”

Again, Eliot nodded, feeling his heartrate slow down. He felt so, so stupid. Of course Margo could fix it. It was an easy fix and she could be late getting to the gathering, he couldn’t. He had to host and be there, but Margo…Margo could fix it.

“See? Everything is great,” she said and gave him a smile that he weakly returned. She reached up, brushing his hair back. “See, there’s a good boy. Such a good boy. God, Eliot, you’re wound so tight. You need…something before you have to be around people. You’re in…you’re so tense.”

Eliot struggled to keep his eyes from reflexively fluttering closed. The gentle motion of Margo carding through his hair calmed him down significantly. She was right and, once again, he hated that. He was thankful that she hadn’t said aloud that he was starting to slip into Panic. She knew it, he knew it, but it didn’t need to be spoken. “I don’t have time for a session,” he told her in a small voice. God, he hated how stupid and small he sounded. “It takes forever to get to Subspace and—“

“Then we’ll speed it up a bit.” Margo removed her hands from Eliot’s hair, smiling slightly at his whine of displeasure. She stood up, putting both her hands on his shoulders. “Traffic light system, Eliot. Green is good, yellow and we’ll slow down, red for a full stop. Okay?”

They rarely ever had to resort to any kind of system. Usually a simple ‘no’ would suffice. Considering the games they played were more mentally stimulating than physically they didn’t have much of a need for safe words. Or, at least, they rarely considered it. Apparently the worry about this showed in Eliot’s eyes when he looked up.

Trying to ease his concerns Margo squeezed his shoulders firmly. “Light impact, Eliot. Nothing too extreme.”

“You want to hit me? I haven’t done anything,” he argued immediately.

Pausing, Margo looked around at her room, eyebrow quirked. “ _Right._ Apart from tearing apart my room you’ve been a perfect angel. Anyway, this isn’t about punishment, Eliot. This is about you calming down for two seconds.” She reached out, brushing her hand through his hair. “If this were a punishment it would be going very differently, right?”

Sure, Eliot had been pleasurably beaten before, just not by Margo“Are you sure?”

“That this isn’t a punishment? Positive,” she promised him, her hands still carding gently through his hair. “No scolding, no corners, no punishment. Okay?”

Taking a deep breath Eliot finally gave a small nod. He needed something quick and he had always really enjoyed the pain when it had come from late night lovers. Maybe this would be okay. It might, at least, get him into Space quickly enough. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Margo said softly as she withdrew her hand from his hair. “Now, keep being good, okay? I’m going to go to my closet and get what I need and you need to go ahead and get your shirt and trousers off. Then, get on the floor, kneel down, and wait for me.”

“You’re going to make me wait?” he asked, and rolled his eyes. Wasn’t this supposed to be about getting things done quickly? How did waiting play into that?

Margo’s index finger traced a line from Eliot’s collarbone up his neck, her nails gliding across his skin with gentle pressure until she got right under his chin. She didn’t need to be very forceful in guiding him up to look at her. “My beautiful Eliot, I’m going to make you do whatever I want. Now, get your shirt off and do as you’re told before you do get yourself into trouble.”

It was nothing more than a bluff. The sparkle in Margo’s eyes said that she couldn’t be angry in that moment if she tried. The threat was just part of the game and gave Eliot a slight shiver of anticipation. Margo gave him a small grin as she pulled her hand away, her nails leaving thin red lines that would fade in seconds.

Eliot’s hands fumbled with his buttons. He was incredibly nervous about this and his hands shook, making it rather difficult to get his shirt off. Margo wasn’t going to beat him, he knew that much. Even the few times he had been punished she hadn’t hurt him like other Doms would have. She had always been more than gentle and sometimes it was easy for Eliot to forget she was a Dom at all. But there were moments like this that reminded him.

The cold air touched his bare skin as he folded his shirt, setting it on the pillow with his vest, suspenders, and tie. Lifting his bottom up slightly he slid his trousers off, his stomach turning as they joined the pile of clothes. He drew a breath and pressed his palms flat against the mattress. This was really happening. It felt odd, but he also felt perfectly safe. There was no one in the world he trusted more than Margo. As long as it was just the two of them in the room things would be okay. She had never overstepped boundaries and, more importantly, she had always respected him, unlike some of the Doms he had taken a chance with.

“Eliot,” Margo said, her back still to him, “that sounds a lot like sitting. Colour?”

It took him a moment to realise what she was talking about. Right, colours, traffic lights or something. “Green,” he told her.

“Good boy.”

The innocuous phrase had the intended effect of him. Eliot squeezed his eyes shut, basking in the brief praise.

“Now, keep being a good boy and do as I asked before this turns into a punishment.”

Another bluff. Or, at least, Eliot hoped it was a bluff. He wasn’t going to test and see right then. Sliding off the bed Eliot tried to find a spot where he hadn’t thrown things. Most of the floor was hidden under the mess of clothing and books from his hunt for scotch. Finally, he pushed the duvet to the side and knelt down on the rug so there was some padding beneath his knees. Then he ran into a minor problem of not quite knowing what to do with his hands. Usually he followed Margo’s direction as she positioned him like a doll, but now that he was kneeling on his own he was quite unsure what to do.

“Margo,” he called, turning to look at her over his shoulder.

Without hesitation Margo abandoned her search, dropping the shoes she was holding, and hurried over to him. “What’s wrong?”

Eliot blinked, confused. He hadn’t expected her to be so concerned. “Hands,” he said simply, his brain feeling somewhat disconnected from his mouth.

Margo let out a breath, relief washing over her. Reaching out she brushed his hair back, smiling as he moved into the touch. “Behind your neck, please.”

Behind his neck. Eliot took that to mean that he wouldn’t be in this position too long. If he had to sit somewhere for a while she usually had him put his hands behind his back so his arms wouldn’t wear out. That was comforting to him. He lifted his arms and locked his fingers together at the base of his neck, looking to Margo for further praise.

Margo didn’t fail to deliver. “Good boy. My good, beautiful boy,” she repeated as she pet him. “I’m going to go back and get what I need, you sit here and wait.”

He didn’t argue this time. There was a sort of calm over him as Margo stepped away. He swore that he could still feel her hand lingering in his hair. This never happened quite so quickly. Usually by this point he was just sitting there irritated. His mind kept leaving the room and he wondered what Quentin would look like kneeling on the floor. When he closed his eyes he could visualize it perfectly. He could see Quentin kneeling on the spot in front his him, hands behind his back and shaking from holding the position for so long. His teeth would be biting down on his perfect bottom lip as he struggled not to touch himself. He would be a good Sub, not daring to do anything about his obvious erection until he was told he could.

“Don’t make a sound,” Eliot pictured himself saying, “but put your hands on my head.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek Eliot imagined Quentin’s fingers caressing his hair gently as he panted with want. He could almost feel the soft touches turning to pleasuring pulls as Eliot went down on him, his tongue teasing the head of Quentin’s cock. Quentin would be torn between following orders to stay silent and wanting to cry out with pleasure as Eliot took him in his mouth, gagging as he chose Quentin’s cock over breathing.

Eliot swallowed hard as these images flashed through his brain and he thought about Quentin writhing under his touch. He wouldn’t come until he had permission, Eliot was sure of that much, but it would be hard to give any kind of verbal permission when you had a mouth full of cock. Eliot would pull back, precum on his lips and Quentin’s whine of displeasure ringing in his ears. He would lean forward, kissing Quentin and letting Quentin taste himself while his hand trailed down to stroke him. He would put his lips to Quentin’s ears—

“Whatever you’re thinking about seems lovely.”

The fantasy was put on pause as Eliot was reminded where he was. Taking a shaky breath he stared down at the floor, no longer interested in what Margo had gotten from the closet. He wanted to return to his perfect world where he and Quentin weren’t interrupted by anything. The back of his neck was damp with sweat and he wondered how long he had been sitting on the floor watching porn play out behind his eyelids. His arms didn’t hurt, so his couldn’t have been very long; but long enough through that his boxers were tented.

“Be still, Eliot,” Margo told him.

It was a command he could follow until he felt the smooth leather tongue of the crop brush lightly against his bare skin. Arching his back Eliot squeezed his eyes closed again, taking in the sensation. The leather swept over his shoulders and Margo took her time brushing his along his collarbone. As the crop moved against his neck he tilted his head back, letting his tease his Adam’s apple. The crop travelled back down his neck and went in spirals across his chest, pausing just for a brief moment to glide across his nipples. Eliot pushed his chest out, silently encouraging more pressure on his sensitive areas. The crop was suddenly gone from his skin, leaving behind a desperate need for more.

“Can you stand up,” Margo asked, her voice sounding very far away.

While Eliot’s wasn’t entirely certain he thought he still had legs, they just felt a bit numb at this point. “Maybe,” he told her, struggling for words again.

“Good boy, you didn’t even lie about it. See if you can stand up.”

Eliot swallowed hard and went to stand, finding himself lacking his usual grace. He stumbled and quickly caught himself before he hit the floor. “Sorry,” muttered, not looking up at Margo.

“Sorry? Sweetie, why are you sorry?”

“I moved my hands.”

“Oh.” Margo was worryingly quiet for a moment. “Honey, you were falling. I think it’s okay this time.”

A sigh of relief escaped him. Maybe he would get through this without getting punished. “May I move my hands?”

Margo reached out and gave his curls a quick pet. “You may.”

Feeling weak Eliot took his hands away from his sweaty neck and used the floor as leverage to get himself out of the kneeling position. He felt like a foal trying to walk as he pulled himself off the ground and swayed where he stood.

“Good, good boy. Go to the corner there, put your hands on the wall. Lean as much as you have to.”

Mumbling that he understood the order Eliot moved awkwardly across the room, tripping over the mess before he made it to the wall. At this point he wasn’t even sure he really needed the impact play. It seemed like he was fine where he was, with his imagination and basic orders. If he didn’t feel so light and distant then he might have mentioned this. Instead of saying anything he rested his hands on the wall, relying heavily on that for support. 

“Such a good boy,” Margo cooed. “You are such a good boy when you want to be.”

While she spoke she traced the crop up his spine so lightly that Eliot wasn’t sure she was touching him at all. It seemed like the gentle brush of the crop pulled his mind away from his fantasy and all he could focus on was the anticipation of the impact. As the crop got to his shoulders he braced himself, ready for the sting. But the crop didn’t bite against his skin. Margo pulled it away and placed the tip gently against his other shoulder. Swallowing hard Eliot wondered how long she was going to tease him like this. She kept pulling the crop away as though she was preparing to smack him and then returning it softly to his skin. Letting his shoulders fall he relaxed, letting her explore his bare skin with the crop.

Relaxing was a mistake. Margo took the crop away again but instead of softly dragging it across his body she hit it hard against his right shoulder blade. The sound was worse than the blow. The sharp _smack_ echoed through the room and reverberated in his ears before the pain ever set in. Eliot made an undignified squeak and bit into the inside of his cheek as his skin burned from the blow.

“Colour?” Margo said as she danced the tongue of the crop on his neck.

Eliot struggled to speak. It had been a long time since anyone had really smacked him and he had completely forgotten what it felt like. There was a calmness settling into his stomach as the sting faded into a dull burn. It wasn’t punishment, but it wasn’t quite pleasure either. It was somewhere in-between.  “Green. Good, green,” he told her and closed his eyes tight.

“Green,” she repeated. “Good, good boy. Just give me a safe word if it gets to be too much.”

The crop smacked against his left shoulder blade and Eliot pressed his forehead against the wall, letting the pain blossom over him. As the crop left his skin it felt like it was pulling back all his stress and tension. He could feel welts forming and there was something in that that satisfied him so completely.

The next smack to his shoulder was harder, making him jump and bite his lip to keep from crying out. The sting had barely faded out before Margo was hitting his other shoulder. She was methodical about it, leaving just enough time in-between smacks that he didn’t have time to focus on anything but what was happening. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pressed his face against the wall, eyes shut tight and lip quivering.

The crop left his shoulders and he felt Margo’s hand softly going over the new welts. She hummed as she admired her handiwork. Her other hand still held the crop and she delicately traced the tip of his over Eliot’s legs.

“Good boy. Good, beautiful boy,” Margo said as she rubbed soothing circles over Eliot’s back.

There was no warning for the crop snapping against his thigh. Eliot’s eyes shot open and another squeak escaped him. The skin against his legs felt ten times as sensitive as that on his back and he instinctively tried to wiggle away. There wasn’t anywhere he could go. He was backed into a corner quite literally.

“Shh, easy, precious,” Margo said, reaching up to pet his hair. “Too much?”

Eliot hesitated before shaking his head. The sting in his thigh had faded into that delightful warmth.

“Okay, okay precious,” she hummed, stroking his hair.

He took the next smack better, anticipating it a little more. The next several swats came in quick succession, covering Eliot’s backside from his left thigh up and then back down on the right side. Small gasps escaped his lips as the sting didn’t have time to diminish before the next hit came. For the first time in weeks his mind felt completely empty. There were no thoughts about Quentin, no worry about whether or not things were perfect, it barely even registered with him that Margo was the one wielding the crop. It didn’t even feel like he was in the room anymore. Everything felt so far away. The harsh smack of the crop barely reached his ears and he wasn’t jumping from the pain of the blows anymore.

Time had lost all meaning to him. It didn’t matter how long he had been against the wall. It caught him a bit by surprise when he found himself being half carried away from the corner, led to the bed. There was talking but Eliot was so lost in his own mind he didn’t hear it at all. His deepest thought in that moment was ‘Bed soft, person warm’. He curled on his side, legs bent awkwardly, and his hands grasping for whatever he could hold. Soft hands carded through his curls and brushed his cheeks. Why were his cheeks damp? Eliot decided that was something to worry about later.

It took some time before Eliot was able to re-enter the world. It felt like waking up from a very restful sleep. He wasn’t aware of all of his surroundings, but he had a vague idea of where he was. All he knew for certain was that he was chilly and he pulled himself closer to Margo in an attempt to steal her body heat.

“There’s my good, beautiful boy,” she said in a whisper. “Hold on just a second, okay, precious? Just one second, I promise.”

Eliot whimpered as Margo pulled away from him, his fingers grabbing at empty air in a moot attempt to bring her back. It wasn’t more than a few seconds that she was missing, but it felt like hours. He didn’t care who was in the bed with him as long as it was someone. Being left alone, even for those few moments, made his chest ache and fresh tears gather in his eyes.

The second Margo was back in the bed Eliot grabbed her shirt, burying his face in her chest and barely noticing that she was pulling a blanket over them. He couldn’t remember the last time he had broken down and cried. He hated crying. Not only did he make a horrific face when it happened but afterwards his lungs always hurt and his nose was stuffy. Whenever he could he avoided tears. But, everything came out in a moment. The stress that remained from the parties and keeping up his appearance all came out. Most of it had evaporated amid well placed smacks; but all the residual stress from the past few weeks overflowed.

While he sobbed Margo rubbed his neck and back, carefully avoiding the welts she had made. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she reassured him over and over again. “You’re such a good boy, Eliot. You’re so good. You took all of that so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so good. So amazing.”

The praise kept him grounded and he soaked it all. His sobs faded into hiccupping sniffles but his grip on Margo remained firm. He held her like a drowning man might cling to anything keeping him afloat. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Sorry? Eliot, why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know. Generically sorry for existing,” he managed through another sniffle. Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he was apologising at this point. It had just seemed like the right thing to say. Then, once he got started thinking about it, he realised there was probably a lot he needed to apologise for. “Ruining your room? Crying? Being like…like this.”

“Oh, shh, baby, no.” Margo held him so close and tight to her chest that he could hear her heart beating beneath her shirt. “You made a mess in Panic. It’s okay, it’s okay. You were upset and that’s all forgiven. That’s all forgiven, precious,” she explained. “And please, please don’t apologise for crying or being Eliot. You can always cry on me and you can be just like this and I’ll still love you. It’s okay. You’ll still be my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend,” he said without even thinking about it. “I’m sorry for that, too.”

“Shh, no more of that, Eliot. No more apologising when you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re so good. So, so good.”

It didn’t feel like he was good at all. It felt like he was a snivelling mess. He felt like he should have been able to handle that better and take it without breaking down crying. But, there was something in crying that he made him feel better. Better and absolutely exhausted. What he wanted right then was a nice nap and to not have to move, but that wasn’t an option. “I have…I have a thing I need to get ready for don’t I?”

Margo rolled over and looked at the clock. “You’ve got a bit less than three hours before they get here.”

Only three hours. He had less than three hours to take a shower, get dressed, and finish pairing his desserts with wine and liquor (minus the white chocolate crème brûlée, which would have to wait for the Glenmorangie). That barely felt like enough time at all. “I need to…May I get up?”

“You’re still under,” Margo said as she moved to sit up. “Let me get some lotion on your spots and then, well, let me know if you want me to stay longer.”

That wasn’t an option. He couldn’t have Margo lying in bed with him all evening, even though that was exactly what he felt like doing. Plans had already been made and they weren’t plans he wanted to let fall through. Eliot rolled onto his stomach as Margo got off the bed, whining when the blanket was taken away. He buried his face in his arms, struggling to stay awake. “Am I going to be able to sit down?”

“Erm…”

That…wasn’t a good sound. Eliot lifted his head up, looking up at his friend. “Margo…?”

She ran a hand up his thigh, her fingers gently brushing over the welts. Gentle as it was it was still enough to make him jump. “I might have gotten a bit…excited there towards the end. The lotion should help, but I’m going to recommend you avoid hard chairs for a little while.”

Eliot whimpered as he let his head fall back into his arms. He was going to have to be careful for the next couple of days. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, just the first time outside of a punishment that Margo had accidentally gone a little overboard. “I don’t know what happened.” He wiped his eyes off with the back of his hands, sniffling just a little.

“You went really deep under,” Margo told him as she climbed back onto the bed. There was a click from the cap of the lotion. “This might be a little cold.”

It felt weird, like he had just been dreaming or like he had gone somewhere else for a few minutes. He didn’t know how to explain it to Margo so he just buried his face again and let her take care of him. The lotion was cold, but it felt amazing and a sigh of relief escaped him as the aloe did its work. She started on his shoulders, rubbing a generous amount onto his welts and down his back being incredibly gentle with him. Eliot relaxed under the ministrations, his eyes closing. It was odd, but he wasn’t even worried right then. He wasn’t worried about sitting down or accidentally aggravating a spot. He felt…oddly okay.

When Margo got to his thighs he whined a little. The tender skin was sensitive even to her soft touch. She tried to be careful, as careful as she could be anyway. “I know, I’ll finish up in a minute. I know you and your sensitive skin, if I don’t do this now then you’re going to bruise. Sorry you’re a peach.”

“I have very delicate skin,” he said into his arm. “You should know that.”

“No one should have skin this delicate. Now, hush, I’m almost done.”

With a huff Eliot lay back down and let Margo finish taking care of him. The pain was starting to settle in and he squirmed a bit under the light touches. Despite the pain there was an absolutely lovely glow radiating off him. “I have to get up,” he said as Margo finished her work with the lotion.

“Yeah, you do, and I need to get to London. I know it’s been a while, but remember while you’re healing—“

“Don’t sit too suddenly, don’t turn the shower on hot, be gentle, whatever. I don’t need reminding of simple things. I’m not…I don’t forget everything just because it doesn’t happen every day.”

Margo rolled her eyes, giving Eliot a light swat on the ass.

Eliot yelped and rolled onto his side, his hands on his ass and a frown etched on his lips. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” she told him and kissed his forehead. “Be good. I’ll only be an hour.”

“I know, I’m fine,” he assured her. He managed to get off the bed, his legs still feeling slightly weak. A big part of him wanted to crawl back under the duvet and hide for the rest of the day, but that wasn’t an option. He had guests coming. He had Quentin coming. He looked around the messy room and managed to locate his robe beneath a pile of sheets. “Go, get back, love you, mean it.”

If he hung around then Margo would keep making sure he was okay and they would never get scotch. So, he tied his robe, left rather abruptly and headed for a shower. His mind was still somewhat fuzzy as he moved down the corridor. The gentle silk fabric brushed against the welts on his skin and he wondered well he was going to fair the next couple of days. The sofa should be alright, but he decided the chairs in the kitchen were going to be a bit uncomfortable.

He showered, letting the warm water wash over him. He kept fiddling with the knobs, the heat building up and getting uncomfortable rather quickly. Next time there was any sort of impact play he really needed one of them to be more in the moment and aware of what was happening. Provided it happened again. Eliot was going to need to sort out his response to it later.

Wrapped in his robe he trotted barefoot back to his room. Clothes were less comfortable than he had hoped but not entirely terrible. His shirt rubbed at his welts and he thought about forgoing the vest. “Style is suffering,” he told himself as he buttoned his vest over his suspenders. He stared at the mirror, brushing a hand through his hair. “Alright—“

It was odd. He had turned around to do an outfit check with Margo before remembering that she had gone to London. Sure, he had gotten ready plenty of times without Margo, but something felt odd about her not being there. He shook it off and checked the time, feeling more and more anxious. He should be able to finish just before everyone got there if he worked hard and fast.

With the time he had left he laid an outfit for Margo on her bed, making sure it coordinated perfectly with his. Of course, these planned outfits looked better when they arrived somewhere together, but they were going to have to make some sacrifices in the name of scotch. As he went downstairs he realised he was still feeling a bit distant from the world. He felt stupidly needy and clingy and beyond ready for more attention. Rather than actually deal with these feelings he took a flask from his pocket and buried them beneath whisky.

There was something about being in a kitchen that calmed him down. This was a place where he had full control. As he readied his desserts his mind drifted back to a distant memory. His mother’s hand over his, helping him to separate eggs and use a hand mixer. It was always just the two of them in the kitchen for hours, forgetting about everyone else. It was like they were in their own private world and no one bothered them.

“Cooking is creating, Snapdragon. You take things that, on their own, aren’t that great and you make them into something amazing. Don’t worry if you mess it up. A burnt meringue isn’t the end of the world. Besides, the dog will always eat the evidence of your mistakes.”

She could always reassure him that things were alright, especially in the kitchen. If he made a mistake then she was the only one who would know and it wasn’t like she was going to tell anyone about it. A part of him missed that. It was a homesickness that could never be cured by going home.

A smile tugged at his lips as he readied the presentation for his first dessert.  His meringue wasn’t burned and looked absolutely fantastic sitting atop his mocha mousse. Quickly, Eliot got caught up in his work. He felt completely focused on the task at hand, eager to please and show off to everyone. He stacked his cupcakes up in a star shaped holder, setting them as the table’s centre piece, before working back on the rest of the presentation for his mousse. Caught up in his artistry he didn’t hear anyone knocking on the door. Nor did he hear anyone banging against the door. He was quite busy working on a sweet orange sauce and couldn’t possibly be bothered.

“Hey, some guy let us—that looks amazing.”

Turning away from the stove Eliot wiped his brow and found himself staring at a wide-eyed Quentin. It wasn’t an unwelcome sight. Seeing Quentin look over the first dessert, clearly impressed, was enough to give Eliot’s heart a small jump.

“You cook?”

Less importantly Julia and Alice were there. It took extreme willpower not to roll his eyes at Julia’s comment and inform her that she was only there because she was friends with Quentin. Honestly, he was a bit proud of himself for that. “Cook? Honestly, you call this cooking? This isn’t some child opening a box of Duncan Hines and throwing a cake together. I _create_. This though…it’s just a little something I decided on last minute. A few new ideas I wanted to try. Call it a creation, call it an experiment,” he turned and looked towards Quentin, “it is always good to experiment with new things. So, yes, I _cook._ I cook magnificently.”

Julia glanced over at Alice during Eliot’s monologue and shrugged her shoulders. “Right, it’s _creating_.”

The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Eliot and he straightened his shoulders, stepping away from his cooking. “Anyway, you’re early.”

“You said six,” Alice pointed out.

“And what time is it now?”

Alice stared at him for a moment before glancing at her watch. “A quarter after six.”

Eliot quietly wondered how long it would take them to realise that showing up on time was a bad idea. “Like I said, you’re early. Not to worry, I can work with this.” He would have to improvise a bit more than he had planned. “Go, sit, I’ll have the first course out in a moment. Out of my kitchen.”

He managed to shoo everyone into the other room, getting them settled with Kir Royales as an aperitif while he finished up. Once he everyone was sitting he went back to his kitchen and took a deep breath. Okay, he just needed to work through this and figure out what to do to stall for time. Most everything was ready, he just needed to plate everything, but he couldn’t really start until Margo returned. Gripping the edge of the counter he leaned over the kitchen and thought for a moment.

Margo would be back within the next half hour. He could go ahead and begin and have a prosecco break in-between courses. Eliot chewed the inside of his lip and went through his desserts in his head. Margo wasn’t a big fan of citrus, so she wouldn’t _really_ enjoy the lemon tarts anyway. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he couldn’t just leave people sitting out there waiting.

Steeling himself in his decision Eliot quickly laid out the plates, dusting them with a thin layer of powdered sugar. Getting the miniature tarts from the fridge Eliot carefully positioned them in the centre of each plate and finished off the plating by topping the tarts with a raspberry and delicately putting two berries beside each tart. Taking a step back he looked at his work with pride. It looked so picturesque to him and he only hoped that everyone else appreciated the plating as much as he did.

_Deep breath, big smile, you’re fabulous,_ he told himself as he placed the tarts on the tray, smile on his face as he went to get the party started.

Everyone was seated at one end of the dining table, clustered together. Julia had taken a seat at the head of the table while Quentin and Alice sat on either side of her. The three of them were sitting closely as though they were having a secret meeting.

“If it says four people then I don’t understand why we don’t just ask him,” Quentin was saying in a hushed whisper. “Like Alice said, this isn’t the easiest thing to—“

“Quentin, hush,” Julia cut in, nudging him in the arm to shut him up. “Look, Eliot’s back.”

Eliot quirked an eyebrow and shook his head. First years doing first year things. It was wholly uninteresting to him and he brushed it off. “Yes, I am, and I brought tarts,” he announced, drawing the attention back to him and his food. He sat the tray on the table, absolutely beaming at Quentin’s expression as the plate was set in front of him. Food always brought people together. “Now, don’t eat just yet. This is a pairing, not a tasting.”

He made his way gracefully over to the bar. Honestly, he was pleased with himself. The welts on his back and legs didn’t hurt, but the fabric rubbing against them made it impossible to forget they were there. Yet he still managed to move with poise even with the sensation.

“Is Margo here?” Julia asked, turning around in her seat to look over at Eliot.

Eliot hesitated just slightly as he worked on his lemon drop martinis. He didn’t want to outright say that he had made a mistake and forgotten an ingredient he needed because that felt a bit like admitting to failure. He wracked his brain for a lie before smiling and glancing up. “Margo had some business she needed to attend to outside of our fair little kingdom here. Not to fret, she’ll be back in about half an hour.”

                “So, Margo isn’t here?” Julia clarified.

                “No, I just like telling you she’s not here because I think it’s a hilarious joke,” Eliot replied dryly as he sat up his glasses. “Like I said, within half an hour. Once she gets here we can move onto the chocolate portion of our pairing here.” After garnishing the glasses he sat them on a smaller tray and carried them to the table. “Lemon drops and lemon tarts with a ginger crust. I think you’ll find that the added spice offsets the tartness of the lemon.” Maybe he had been watching a bit too much Chopped.

                Standing back Eliot sipped his lemon drop and gave everyone the chance to try his creations. Well, he mostly just watched Quentin take a bite, his eyes fluttering closed as the flavours set in. He was absolutely adorable in such a beautifully awkward way. His mouth twisted slightly from the tartness and relaxed as the sweet settled in. There were soft quiet sounds that escaped Quentin’s lips that made it clear he thought the food was delicious, which was all that mattered. The noises were absolutely sinful to Eliot’s ears and he could have stood there all day and just watched and listened.

                “These are quite good,” Alice told him, bringing him back to reality.

                Julia nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’m actually surprised. Never would have thought you could cook.”

                There was something backhanded in her comment, but Eliot just gave her a smile. For now, and for Quentin’s sake, he shook it off. He checked his watch and mentally groaned. They still had at least twenty minutes before Margo got back. He really thought it would take longer for everyone to eat. “We’ll have a short intermission while we wait for Margo. Some prosecco will clear the palate to prepare you for the next dessert anyway. Besides, this isn’t even giving me a buzz,” he said as he put his empty glass on the table.

“You must be exhausted,” Julia said, her eyes sparkling dangerously in the low light of the room. “I mean, you did all this work, you should really sit down.” She pushed her chair back, standing up.

That might have been nice coming from someone else. There was something that Eliot didn’t trust about her but he couldn’t quite place it. “It’s really alright, the prosecco is in the ice bucket, it’ll just take me a moment to—“

“I mean it, Eliot,” she said. She stood next to Eliot and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing with gentle but firm pressure.

Eliot swallowed hard, trying not to flinch as Julia’s fingers pressed directly on a welt. He kept his back straight, struggling to keep his composure.

 “It looks absolutely amazing. All of it does. And what we’ve had so far tastes amazing. Come on, Eliot, sit down for a minute.”

The praise went straight to his head and he had to fight to remain in control of himself. It would be so easy to just slide back into Subspace and he couldn’t, not in front of people, not away from Margo. God, he had been so far under when he and Margo were in the bedroom and it would be so easy to just slip back into that headspace. He couldn’t, but he wasn’t sure he could stop it. “It’s fine…really…”

“No, it’s not fine. You’ve been working hard all day, you deserve a minute to sit down,” she told him again. Leaning over she lowered her voice, her words just for him. “Take a break, I don’t like asking twice.”

The order made him stiffen and hesitate. He bit the inside of his cheek, taking a step back. “Perhaps…but I have to—“

“Sit down, I know,” Julia said as she tugged Eliot’s arm and sat him down in the dining room chair, none too gently.  “Quentin can get the prosecco, can’t you Quentin?”

“Jules, can’t you—“ Quentin started, his voice soft.

“Quentin,” Julia repeated, “Eliot has been working _all day_ in the kitchen. Why don’t you go get the prosecco?”

Eliot didn’t want Quentin to leave. He already felt distant and worried and he wanted something safe in the room. But he heard the door to the kitchen open and close and knew that he was alone. No, not alone, because Alice was still there, right? Alice was there and she seemed like a very by-the-book kind of Dom. She would stop this, right?

As he looked around he realised that Alice was doing everything to ignore the situation, as though if she didn’t see it then it wasn’t happening. Eliot felt sick and completely frozen. Just the way Julia’s hands carded through his hair made him afraid to move. He closed his eyes, drawing a breath and focusing on remembering where he was. While Julia was quiet Eliot kept seeing places outside the room. The hard chair beneath his sore ass gave him a flash of something passed. Eliot squeezed his eyes shut tight, his hands balled into fists. Margo would be back soon, he reminded himself. He was at Brakebills. He was at college. He had friends.

“Eliot, you’re so tense,” Julia told him. “You need to relax. Just let go for a moment.”

Relaxing wasn’t going to happen. Julia’s voice did bring him back to the room, but it didn’t calm him down. What was Julia’s game? Why was she suddenly doing…this? If it was meant to be kindness then she wasn’t very good at it. This felt wrong and he couldn’t do anything. This was Panic, Eliot was sure of that. There were pills specifically for this…he had them, he just couldn’t remember where they were. Margo would know. God, he needed Margo.

“Look at that, you can follow directions when someone gives them to you,” Julia commented, her tone condescending. “See, you can be a good boy when you want to be.” While she spoke her hands moved down, loosening his tie. “Good, good boy. Just relax.” Once his tie was off Julia popped the first couple of buttons on his shirt before rubbing her hands along his neck.

Eliot felt completely frozen in that moment. On the one hand the praise gave him a sense of accomplishment. It was what he lived for, it was the one thing that could always lull him into the safety of Subspace. On the other hand he was absolutely terrified. He had never been Submissive around so many people at Brakebills before. It was a strange feeling overtaking him and he wasn’t sure what to do. The natural Submissive in him was hanging off every compliment and every order, the person he had trained himself to be was struggling to fight it off, and the person he had been before wanted to vomit. His brain was fighting a war from three points and he just wanted to run.

“You know though,” Julia began, her voice low again as she spoke directly to Eliot, “you were very, very bad the other night. You took Quentin off. Drunk, helpless Quentin. You know why that was wrong, right?”

Eliot closed his eyes and gave a small shake of his head.

“Of course you would say that, no one has ever taken the time to teach you right from wrong, have they? But, see, I don’t think you’re being entirely honest with me. I think you’re lying. You knew it was wrong, you knew it would have been rape, you were just hoping that someone would notice and correct you. Because that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want for someone to correct you.”

Did he? He did a lot of things, a lot of terrible things and didn’t think about them. Was there a part of him that craved correction? Was the Submissive in him begging for someone to punish him? It had never occurred to him before that he wanted any of that. He had always just done things. He tensed as Julia’s hand traced the outline of his jaw, shivering at the contact. It had been so long since anyone had tried to do anything with him…maybe… He wanted to tell Julia that he hadn’t been planning on sleeping with Quentin. He had just wanted the closeness, the safety…how did he say that when he couldn’t even speak?

“You are asking for it, aren’t you? What is it you’ve been looking for? Humiliation? A spanking? Or just someone to tell you ‘no’?” Her hands moved down from his hair onto his shoulders. She paused slightly and pulled back the collar of his shirt. “It looks like someone has already taken you in hand. Has someone finally started telling you ‘no’? Because it looks like they went easy on you. Do you know what would happen if you had a real Dom? If you were a proper Sub? No proper Dom would let you get away with just a couple little swats. You wouldn’t sit for a week if you had a proper Dom. Is that what you want? Is that what you’re really looking for?”

                Eliot wanted to disappear into the chair. If he were to just die right there then he would be perfectly fine with that. His heart was pounding in his ears and his throat was dry. It felt like if he tried to take a breath he would choke. He wanted to answer Julia. He wanted to tell her ‘No’ and he wanted to tell her to fuck right off, but he couldn’t speak.

Thankfully he didn’t have to give an answer. There was a loud _crash_ that caused his eyes to flicker open at once. His looked frantically around the room, taking in his fuzzy surroundings. Alice was standing by the bookcase, arms crossed and pretending like she couldn’t see them. Julia stood over him, a smug look on her face. Then there was Quentin. He was in the doorway, eyes wide. The bottle of prosecco was spilling on the floor surrounded by the remains of a wine glass.

“Sorry,” Quentin said quickly, “I dropped the, um…everything I was holding?”

Heat rose to Eliot’s cheeks as the full weight of what happened hit him. He had let himself slip, he had Subbed after just a few words of praise and general bossiness. It was stupid, he was so stupid. Everything inside of him was screaming to just run but his body still felt frozen. Finally, he pushed himself up from the sofa and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. His cheeks and ears were crimson, his eyes wide and panicked, and his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. A mess, that was what he looked like. An absolute mess. His stomach turned and twisted with nausea and he felt almost certain that he was going to throw up.

“I have to….” Eliot didn’t finish what he had to do. He couldn’t even think of a proper lie. He stood up so fast that the chair tumbled over backwards. Leaving the chair on the ground he turned out of the room, leaving as quickly as he could.

His skin felt hot and sticky and he loosened his tie as he hurried to his room. How had he let this happen? This was supposed to be a good night. This was supposed to just be a nice dessert and liquor pairing to calm everyone down and relax a little bit. Now he was practically running through the corridors, tears of humiliation pricking at his eyes. His head hurt and he stopped outside his room, covering his mouth with his hand and swallowing hard to keep himself from getting sick. He wanted Margo and he wanted no one. He just wanted to disappear again.

**Quentin**

There were a lot of things Quentin didn’t understand, but he understood humiliation. When you grew up A subby Super Nerd you got very intimate with embarrassment. Normally he was on the receiving end of it, it was rare that he saw someone else look so ashamed. He hadn’t known what to do, so he had just dropped the glasses so everyone had something else to focus on. It had worked, he just wished that he had thought to do it sooner.

Quentin didn’t know what to say, but there was an awkward silence and he felt like he needed to say something. “What the hell was that?” he asked, his voice more aggressive than he expected.

Julia shrugged her shoulders as though she couldn’t see anything wrong with what had happened. She crossed the room and knelt down, gathering glass shards in her hands. “Careful, you don’t want to get cut.”

“I’m not worried about the glass on the floor.”

“You should be. You got it everywhere.”

The glass was really the least of his concerns. The prosecco soaking into his socks was really a bigger problem to him than the fact that he might get a little cut. But even that wasn’t even on the list of Big Problems he had right them. “Why did you do that? That…to Eliot, I mean? That was cruel.”

Pausing, Julia looked up and raised her brow. “What I did was cruel? Quentin, he got you drunk because he wanted to sleep with you. _That_ was cruel. I didn’t _do_ anything to him. I just sat him down and talked to him a little bit. It’s not a big deal.”

“No, you humiliated him.”

“Hardly. It’s not like there was even anyone in here. Besides, he deserved it.”

_No one deserves to be embarrassed like that_ , Quentin thought but he couldn’t work out how to explain that to Julia. “Alice, you’re with me on this, right?”

Alice was quiet, looking down. She was silent for several seconds as Quentin stared expectantly at her. “What he did before wasn’t right,” she finally said and looked up at Quentin. “He deserved to be punished for that. But, it isn’t our place to do that. What Eliot did wasn’t right but what Julia did wasn’t right either. I think you’re even now.”

How was he hearing this? They were _even?_ This wasn’t a game, they weren’t scoring points, this was actual life. “No. No, no one is even!”

“He tried to hurt you so I hurt him. Like Alice said, we’re even.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” Quentin almost yelled, stepping back. “Nothing happened between us, there was nothing to…I didn’t ask you to defend me, Julia.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Well, apparently I have to ask you not to. I can fight my own battles when and if I have them. I don’t…I don’t need you to try and stand up for me or-or decide what’s best for me when you don’t even know what _I_ want. You didn’t even bother to ask me if _I wanted_ you to stop Eliot. You didn’t ask me if _I wanted_ him to keep going. I just…” How did he put this? What was he even trying to say? Julia was his best friend, she had been for years. But she didn’t love him. Or, she did, but not in the way he wanted her to. He didn’t need her to act as his Dom when it was convenient for her. He didn’t need her to protect him if she wasn’t going to have him. “I just need you to be my friend,” he finally said, dropping his anger and letting his arms fall at his sides.

Julia stood up, her expression softening. “I am your friend,” she told him in a gentle voice. “Quentin, I am your friend so I can’t let people—“

“You can let me decide what I want to do. If you’re my friend then act like it,” he said and stepped back, turning away. “I’ll see you guys back at the dorm.”

“Quentin,” Julia said as he started to leave, “what…what’re you doing?”

“Being a friend.”

Quentin didn’t know if Eliot wanted to see him or if Eliot wanted to see anyone. He paused in the commons and spotted a bottle tucked between the cushions. Well, Eliot did always seem to like alcohol so maybe he would at least appreciate that. After pulling the bottle free from the sofa he headed up the steps. He had no idea what he was going to say or if he would even be able to say anything at all. What if Eliot was crying? Quentin didn’t do well with people crying. His reaction to that was usually to try and distract them from whatever made them cry. Maybe the alcohol would work as a distraction? He hoped that would work because he was mostly at a loss for what to do.

Eliot wasn’t in his bedroom and Quentin went down the hall to Margo’s room. He hadn’t been in Margo’s room before, but he had always imagined it being really nice. In his head there were paintings of Paris on the wall and framed photographs of her and Eliot in brightly colored frames. Never in his imagination had Margo’s room ever looked like a shopping center exploded. Quentin initially thought he had the wrong room until he stopped the mop of dark curls poking out from the comforter on the bed. Eliot was curled up in a nest of blankets. Quentin took care in crossing the room, trying not to step on anything. As he sat down on the edge of the bed he wondered if Eliot had just fallen asleep.

The edge of the blanket pulled back and Eliot looked out, hopeful at first and then his face fell. “Oh….no,” he said before pulling the blanket back over his head. “Also, yes. I’m sure. Great.”

“No…no what?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it. Yes, I’m fine. I’m sure I’m fine. Great, see you later,” he mumbled. “Does that answer every question you might have?”

Quentin got the feeling that he wasn’t really welcome there right then and he understood that to a point. Whenever he felt humiliated or destroyed he wanted to hide and pretend that the world wasn’t there. Usually he would disappear into a Fillory book until he felt better. He wondered if Eliot had anything like a Fillory that he could go to. “Everyone else is gone. I brought you some, um…I found it in the sofa.”

With a sigh, Eliot flipped the blanket back and took the bottle from Quentin. He looked, for lack of a better word, rough. On the plus side, he wasn’t crying. Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. Quentin looked at how hollow Eliot’s eyes were and wondered if crying might not have been a better option.

“Talisker. That’s a good whiskey.”

They sat there for a moment in silence as Quentin tried to work out what to say and Eliot stared blankly at the bottle in his hands. He wasn’t even drinking it and that worried Quentin more than anything else.

“I know what it’s like,” Quentin finally said, unsure where he was going with this. “And I know that it sucks sometimes.”

“Know…what sucks?”

“I mean being, like…being a sub. I know that, like…like, sometimes it feels like you don’t have a say in how the world treats you and, like…it just sucks, a lot. And I don’t…I don’t want you to think that what Julia did was okay and also I’m sorry.”

Eliot was quiet for another moment. Finally he opened the bottle and took a drink. “I’m sorry that you think I’m submissive, Quentin. I regret that you had to see me on a subby day, but I want you to know that this is...unusual for me.”

He was lying. He was clearly lying and they both knew that. Quentin wondered if Eliot had lied so much about being a Switch that he had started to believe it himself. He also found himself thinking about what Julia had said. As unfair as it had been she was right. If Eliot did ever somehow get a proper Dom then he was in for a rude awakening in regards to his attitude and etiquette. “Eliot, I’m a sub, I’m not going to…I don’t know, make fun of you for it or take advantage of you or anything. I just…I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Like I said, I’m fine,” he answered a little took quickly as he put the lid back on the whiskey. “I would just like you to leave now and I would like very much to return to sleeping. Feel free to take a cupcake as you leave and, also, feel free to forget that this happened.”

Quentin sat there for another minute while Eliot disappeared beneath his blanket. He didn’t know how to help but, god, he wanted to so badly. This was his friend, his friend that was hurt. What was he supposed to do? “Will Margo be back soon?”

“Probably eventually? This is her room. I assume she’ll come back to it some time. Not really concerned with that.”

Another lie but Quentin didn’t call him out this time. All he could do was hope that Margo was better with this than he was and hope that Eliot didn’t lie to Margo nearly as much. “Fine. Fine okay. If you need me—“

“Oh, I will, just not right now. Later, when I’m feeling friskier.”

That sounded a bit more like the Eliot he had come to know and Quentin managed a small smile. “Well, come get me if you need me. I’m not hard to find.”

It felt absolutely terrible to leave that room, but there were some things Quentin understood outside of Math, Illusions, and Fantasy Stories. He understood what it was like to need to be left alone. Sometimes it was harder to figure out how you felt when there was someone else there. Sometimes having another person there made the shame that much worse. So, he left Eliot with the whiskey and hoped it was the right thing to do.

As he walked down the stairs Quentin realised he had no idea what to do. Going back to his room didn’t feel like an option because the last thing he wanted to do was walk in on Penny having sex again. He didn’t really want to see Julia right then because he wasn’t entirely sure what he would say to her. A lot of his anger had dissipated but he still wasn’t quite ready to face her.

When he got downstairs he was surprised to see Alice still there, finishing cleaning up where the wine had spilled. “Hey,” he said, pausing at the bottom and resting his arm on the railing.

Alice jumped up and looked at him before looking down at the wet rag in her hand. “Hey.”

“Are you…what are you doing?”

“You seemed upset,” she explained, adjusting her glasses and not looking directly at Quentin. “I thought I should…make sure you were alright. You seemed like you got a bit angry, which seems unusual for you. I was just making sure…”

Quentin smiled and walked over to her. It was much easier to be the person being taken care of than it was to take care of someone. He thought maybe that was a submissive thing. “I’m fine. Are you hungry? Because I thought that there was going to be more food and party than there was. This was…kind of a mess.”

“That’s a mild way of putting it.”

They finished cleaning up the mess he had made, neither one of them talking much. Quentin wasn’t entirely sure what there was to say. All he knew was that he was sad and angry all at the same time. Somehow, though, he felt better with Alice there, even if she had disagreed with him about Eliot. He was just glad to have someone there.

**Margo**

The trip to London should have been quick. It would have been if she hadn’t run into someone from the pub and they hadn’t been oh-so happy to see her. Margo tried to figure out when the last time they had popped in was. It must’ve been at least a month ago. They were going to have to get back there some time soon. It would probably be good for both of them to get away from Brakebills, even if it was just for a few hours. Margo decided that they were going to go to London together the next weekend and she would mention it to Eliot later.

All she had to do now was change clothes and then eat wonderful food. She had the scotch tucked away safely in her purse so there was nothing else that could ruin Eliot’s party. Or, that was what she thought until she walked into her room. The first thing she noticed was the outfit that Eliot had laid out for her. The second thing she noticed was the mound of blankets moving slightly on the bed. No matter what was under the blanket it wouldn’t be good.

Margo reached out and took the corner of the duvet in her hand and pulled back, feeling her stomach drop when Eliot looked back at her. He looked so small lying there, bottle of whisky clutched tightly to his chest. He wasn’t crying and he wasn’t actually drinking, which worried Margo a lot more.

“Oh god,” she half whispered, “Eliot…what happened?”

“Nothing. Go away. Bye,” he said and rolled over onto his side to face the wall.

She hadn’t been gone that long! She had just left him for an hour and he was lying in the bed looking like someone had just killed Gerald in front of him. “Eliot, no, no, I’m not going away. Clearly it’s not ‘nothing’.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on Eliot’s back and rubbing gentle circles. “What happened?”

“ _Nothing,_ ” he said, a bit more forcefully this time.

Clearly he wanted to tell her, Margo was certain that he did. He wasn’t pulling away from her touch, he wasn’t running, he was just really, really bad at talking. Maybe she could just coax him to telling her. Lead him to the answer. “Did something happen at the party? Did Alice do something?”

Eliot buried his face into the pillow, still clinging to his bottle. “No, nothing, I’m fine,” he whined.

Okay, not Alice. “Did something happen with Quentin?”

For a moment Eliot was silent and Margo was hopefully that she was getting somewhere. “Subdrop,” he finally said into the pillow.

Margo stopped, her hand freezing against Eliot’s back. No, she must have misheard him because he couldn’t have gone into Subdrop. That…that would make it her fault and it wasn’t her fault. “Sorry, I don’t think I heard you right.” She _hoped_ she hadn’t heard him right.

Eliot was quiet for another moment before pulling his face out of the pillow and facing the wall again. “Subdrop,” he repeated, confirming Margo’s fears. “You…left and I just…Never mind, it’s stupid. I was being stupid. I normally…I can normally keep control over things. I found my…I found my pills under the bed so I’m _fine_ now. I’m sick, but I’m fine.”

Margo had to swallow hard to keep herself from tearing up. It wasn’t just that she was upset because Eliot was upset. Seeing Eliot hurting always hurt her, but it hurt worse when he was blaming himself and it wasn’t his fault. It hurt knowing that she was the one who had done this. She had thought that he was fine when she left, but at the same time she felt like she should have known he wasn’t okay. If he had to take a Drop Pill then it must have been really bad. The pills always messed with his hormones and made him sick, sometimes for a couple of days afterwards. It was one of the few drugs he avoided. “Oh god. Eliot, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise when I left that you were still so far under. You should have told me.” She felt sick about the whole thing. She laid down beside him, feeling the overwhelming need to pull him close to her, to take care of him, to be there now since she wasn’t before.

“No,” Eliot mumbled and pulled away, dragging the blanket back over his head and disappearing into a cocoon of sadness. “Don’t…don’t touch me. I don’t want you to touch me.”

The words absolutely broke Margo’s heart. She wanted to point out that he was the one who walked away from the scene and that he had seemed alright when she left, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t make him feel like this was his fault, not when he was already suffering. “If you think I’m leaving you like this then you’re absolutely mad,” she told him, fighting back the urge to cry from frustration with herself. “Please come out of the blanket, Eliot.”

“No,” he said simply, pulling the blanket tighter around him. “Go away.”

“Not going to happen, Eliot.” He needed someone to take care of him he was just too stubborn to ever say that. If he hadn’t wanted her to find him then he would have gone to his room. He needed comfort but he refused to ask for it. Well, that was why he had her, right? “Pull back the blanket, Eliot.”

“I just said—“

“Eliot, listen to me,” Margo repeated, forcing her voice to be stern, “pull the blanket back and look at me.”

Eliot was still for a moment and Margo held her breath. She wouldn’t punish him while he was sick, but she didn’t need him to know that. All she wanted to be able to take care of Eliot and for him to just listen, just once. Finally, Eliot slowly pulled the blanket off his head. His curls were wild around his face and he looked so small.

“Okay, good boy, good, good, come here,” she said, motioning him closer to her.

He moved slowly, putting his head on her chest and laying stiffly as she rubbed his back, whispering words of praise to him.

Margo just wanted him to know that she was there for him, even if she had left him before. She felt like she should have known that he was going to drop. It wasn’t like they ever did impact play, she should have known it would affect him more than just sitting in a corner or following basic orders. She should have waited and made sure that he was okay and she had no idea how to fix it. She wanted to ask if he had even made it to the party, but figured that would be a bit much for him. So, instead of asking anymore questions she just held him until he relaxed and whispered assurance to him as he fell asleep.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Quentin**

                “Man, the best part about moving out is that I don’t have to hear the weird shit that goes on in your head anymore.”

                The day was not starting out well. First of all Quentin was feeling particularly depressed over the fact that he seemed to not have a particular magical affinity. Everyone else seemed to know exactly what they were doing and he…he didn’t. His therapist had once told him that depression didn’t stem from a bad situation, that you could be in the best situation and still be depressed. It had seemed like bullshit at the time, but now that he was exactly where he wanted to be, and still depressed, he thought maybe she wasn’t entirely wrong.

                Secondly, there was a problem with a spell he, Julia, and Alice were attempting. Julia had pointed out that they needed four people for it. Quentin had suggested multiple times that they ask Eliot, but that got shot down every single time. He hadn’t suggested it since The Incident between Julia and Eliot. The last thing he wanted was to put them into a room together with powerful magic. It had only been a couple of days since everything had happened and he had done his best to keep Julia away from Eliot.

                Finally, he still had to spend a couple of hours with Penny. He was just trying to get all his things together to move into the Physical Cottage and Penny was going on about how wonderful it would be to finally be Quentin-Free. Quentin couldn’t help but relate a little bit. Sometimes he wished that he could get away from himself.

                “No more listening to you try and figure out if you’re gay. No more ‘Oh, I could have a bagel but I had a bagel yesterday. But yesterday I had a bagel with butter, what if I put jam on it this time’ bullshit. Nobody stealing my shit. And, most important, no more god damn Taylor Swift.”

                “I still don’t know who stole from you,” Quentin said, mostly ignoring everything Penny was saying in favor of folding his laundry. 

                Penny rolled his eyes and went back to throwing things in garbage bags. Quentin considered asking if Penny had any luggage, but he also didn’t really feel like getting shouted at.

                Quentin’s mind wandered as it so often did when he was faced with such a menial task as folding shirts. He thought about how he, apparently, wasn’t good at anything. Despite getting into Brakebills he was nothing. Rather quickly he found this train of thought too gloomy and decided to think about something else. The situation with Eliot was equally as upsetting but less Quentin-focused and he decided it was better to think about someone else’s problems than it was to think about his own. Trying to think more pleasant thoughts he turned his attention to his move. Living in the Physical Kid’s Cottage would definitely be and improvement. For one thing, Penny wouldn’t be there. All his friends were going to the cottage anyway. But he couldn’t help but worry. The memory of Eliot’s horror stricken face was clear in his mind and he couldn’t get rid of it. He had looked so…just so incredibly sad when Quentin had checked on him and in the past few days his smile had seemed so forced.

                He thought about what Alice said, about Eliot and Julia being even and he got angry all over again. Quentin hated being angry, especially with his friends, but every time he thought about it the feelings returned. This was what he was going to live with and he didn’t want to have to play referee for the three of them. He hoped that The Incident was going to be the last problem the three of them had.

                There was a loud bang from Penny’s side of the room as something (Quentin thought it was a book) was thrown to the ground. “Do you ever shut up about your fucked up friends?”

                Quentin jumped, nearly dropping the pants he had been folding. Lately he had been trying more and more to close up his mind, but sometimes he just, well, forgot about it, especially if he was lost in thought. “They’re not fucked up.”

                “Right. Gay Brunet tries to sleep with you, Bitch Brunette Doms him, and Blonde Chick…does whatever Blonde Chick does. You’ve literally thought about this for three days. They’re all fucked up. What that bitch did to that dude was fucked up. There’s your answer, you can stop worrying about it. Quit.”

                Bitch Brunette seemed a bit harsh. “Eliot. Julia. And Alice,” Quentin said as though it would actually matter to Penny.

                It clearly didn’t because Penny said, in fewer words and far less kindly, that he didn’t care and would never care. It was at this point that Quentin decided that maybe it was best if he just left and came back after Penny had collected his things. The less time he actually had to spend with Penny the better; he was so glad that there wasn’t extra room in the Psychic Cottage. If he had to stay in this room then he was pretty sure that Penny would actually murder him and being murdered was not very high on his to-do list.

                The plan to leave was solidified with the door opened and Kady stepped through. No one seemed to knock. Ever. Quentin wondered if there was something he was missing about knocking. It didn’t really matter with Kady though, at this point Quentin thought she was in the room more than he was. Quentin knew her partly from class and mostly from the fact that she was sleeping with Penny every spare moment they found. She was, for lack of a better word, hot. He had thought that the fact that she chose to be with Penny would somehow detract from her attractiveness, but it really didn’t. It was frustrating. What was more frustrating was that her arrival was also followed by Penny kicking him out immediately. Quentin didn’t wait for his que to go. He simply abandoned his laundry and gathered his messenger bag, not bothering with parting words.

                As he walked down the corridors he wondered if this would ever really feel real. There were parts of Brakebills that felt incredibly real. The fights and the drama felt all too real and familiar. Still, the parts where he was going to class and studying magic felt like a sort of dream. He worried that he was going to wake up and it would all be over. Like he would wake up and look down and find himself with a hospital bracelet attached to his wrist and all this would be a dream.

                Julia was taking a shower when Quentin got to her room, so he decided just to wait on her bed. He laid there and stared at the blank ceiling. It was weird to know that they were leaving the dormitory. They would still be together, but it felt like things were moving too quickly. Quentin had never had a problem keeping up with schoolwork, but magic was so much more technical than he had imagined.

                Alice was quiet as she packed and Quentin tried not to watch her. She was talented and he didn’t quite understand her. If he was that talented he would be way more likely to show off. But, Alice didn’t show off. In fact, she seemed to hide. Despite being outspoken about some things Quentin had come to realise that Alice often hid behind her hair and could be incredibly shy.

                “Any ideas for the fourth person,” Quentin asked, trying to make conversation. She seemed to talk more when there weren’t a lot of people around, and he could understand that. They were both awkward and he liked talking to her.

                Not looking away from her suitcase Alice shrugged. “I’m running out of ideas. I’m glad Julia noticed we needed four people before we tried the spell, but it would be better if we knew anyone with enough skill to do it.”

                “I hate to keep suggesting it, but—“

                “No.” This time Alice did look up from what she was doing. “I’m not putting Julia and Eliot in a room together where there’s magic involved. Sorry, but I need this to work, I don’t want two people who are distracted by drama.”

                Quentin fell silent because he was out of ideas. They could ask Margo, but he rarely saw her without Eliot. They walked to class together, ate meals together, and laughed too loudly on the quad together. “We’ll find someone. Maybe when we move into the Cottage.”

                Alice looked as optimistic as Quentin felt. She went back to packing up her clothes and the room descended into silence again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was like when they were studying. It would be quiet for hours until there was a question or they needed to discuss a magical theory. Honestly, Quentin liked the quiet between them but he couldn’t explain why.

                When Julia came back Quentin found himself helping her pack. He had never had a problem talking to Julia about anything before. They used to spend hours talking about everything and nothing. Their conversations varied from the reality of school and their futures to the distant fantasy land of Fillory. So, why was he finding it so hard to talk to her lately? Maybe he was still a little mad over what had happened with Eliot even though Julia had apologised to him for it. Maybe that wasn’t enough.

                “You wanna go for a walk,” he asked when they had finally finished packing up her things.

                They left the dorm and walked into the morning light together. The dew was still fresh on the ground and the birds were starting to chirp in the trees. There was a mist rolling in off the Hudson. When the sun reflected off the fog it gave the place a magical look about it. Quentin had to keep reminding himself that it was magic, and it was real, and that they were really there. He put his hands in his pockets, walking the winding paths beside Julia. It was still unnaturally warm. He wasn’t sure what the weather was like outside of Brakebills, but it was probably still freezing so he was glad for whatever charms were surrounding the school.

                “I can’t believe we’re moving already,” Quentin said. “I mean, it feels like we just got here.”

                Julia nodded. “Everything is happening so fast, but we’re still at a standstill with that spell. I mean, how are we supposed to find out _anything_ if we can’t find a fourth person? Don’t even suggest it, Quentin,” Julia said as soon as Quentin opened his mouth.

                Quentin looked down and cleared his throat. “Julia, look, I know that…I know you don’t see how what you did was wrong—“

                “Because it wasn’t.”

                “No, quit.” He stopped walking and put his hands on her shoulders to get her full attention. “You don’t see it as a big deal because you’re, well, you’re not a sub, Julia. You don’t know what it’s like to be one. So, you can’t know what it’s like when someone…when someone humiliates you like that or sends you into Panic. I mean, Panic isn’t the same for Switches. It still sucks, but it doesn’t hit as hard. You can’t know what that does to someone.”

                “I know what it’s like when subs go into Panic. I’ve helped you when you went into Panic,” she reminded him.

                Quentin couldn’t believe Julia right then. If she _knew_ what Panic was like then _why_ would she do it to someone else? “Look, we’re going to be living with Eliot. I’m not saying that you and Eliot are going to be best friends or whatever, but it would be nice if you weren’t, well, mean to him.”

                “He was mean to you.”

                “No, he…I’m not going back over this, okay? Either apologize to Eliot or…or I don’t know that I can keep doing this.”

                Julia stared at Quentin, her mouth half open in shock as she tried to work through what Quentin had told her. “Do…do what, Quentin?”

                Quentin didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to choose between his best friend and someone he barely knew. It wasn’t just that though. Since he had gotten to Brakebills he had started to see Julia differently. She was still beautiful, still his brilliant friend, but something had changed. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was harder to talk to her sometimes. “Julia…you’ve been really mean lately. And I know you’re trying to protect me, but you don’t even ask if I want you to protect me or not. I just…I just don’t know if I can keep being friends with you if you’re going to be cruel to my friend and-and accuse him of doing something when you don’t know the full story. I’m sorry, Julia.”

                He wasn’t sure where his confidence was coming from. Maybe it was, in part, because he had been right about magic. Or maybe it was just because he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. Whatever it was, he felt like shit. He didn’t like the hurt on Julia’s face as he spoke. He didn’t like the way his stomach twisted as the guilt of his words sank into his gut. Julia was his best friend, this wasn’t how you treated your best friend. Quentin’s mouth felt dry as he turned away from Julia, brushing back a loose strand of hair. What was he going to do if he lost Julia? Who was he going to hang out with and talk about what he did all day? Who was he going to lay in bed with and play Latin rwith? God, he felt sick.

                “Quentin, wait,” Julia said, running to catch up with him. She grabbed his arm and looked up at him. “You’re my best friend, I can’t lose you. I’ll…I’ll apologize to Eliot. For your sake.”

                Maybe things were going to be alright after all. He had his best friend, Alice, and Eliot. He had magic. Everything he needed was in one place and it was all coming together.

 

 

**Eliot**

                It had been a rough couple of days. The pills had made Eliot so sick he couldn’t eat anything. The Taxibital pills were basic over-the-counter pills to help pull him out panic, but the side effects were almost as bad as being in panic. Margo had spent several hours petting his hair while he threw up. When he wasn’t throwing up he was busy being absolutely exhausted. It felt like he couldn’t win. Julia was gone but her words still lingered in his ears and his body was still suffering. It wasn’t fair and he couldn’t think of any way to fix it. All he wanted to do was keep lying in the bed and never have to face the world again.

                That wasn’t an option. Of course it wasn’t. No matter how upset you were the world kept on going and you had to keep up. His mother used to say that the worst day of your life could only last for twenty-four hours and he wanted to tell her how very wrong she had been about that.

                Still, lying in bed had become boring and Eliot was starting to get antsy. Besides, it was Moving Day. Eliot was certain that he should be excited about that but he couldn’t convince himself to be. He tried reminding himself that this meant he and Quentin would be spending more time together, but that was overshadowed by the fact that he was going to have to put up with Julia on a more regular basis. He had no idea how to deal with that. This was _his_ home and she was an intruder. He was going to have to find some way to let her know that she wasn’t welcome there. But, first he had to swallow the bile rising in his throat at the thought of seeing her. Or maybe that was just the Taxibital.

                “Wow, we’re wearing clothes today,” Margo said, watching Eliot from the doorway. “Colour me impressed. Pants, shirt, vest. You look almost like Eliot again.”

                Eliot rolled his eyes and stepped away from the mirror. The clothes were his mask and he was proud of how well they worked. Even Margo couldn’t see how absolutely anxious he was. “Well, the little ones are moving in today. It only felt appropriate to look my best. For Quentin.”

                “Oh, of course, for Quentin.” Margo sauntered over, putting an arm around Eliot’s waist. “Muted colours. I think I can find something to match. Still feeling sick?”

`               “I took the better part of a bottle of Dramamine with a Pepto chaser. I should be fine.” In theory, anyway. He felt claustrophobic right then, as though the cottage was suddenly too small for him or he was too big for it. It was just the anxiety, he reminded himself. Knowing what caused the feeling didn’t make it go away though. “I think a walk might help. The air should help calm my stomach down”.

                “Let me grab my shoes.”

                Eliot hesitated for a moment, wracking his brain to figure out exactly what he wanted to say. He loved Margo, he loved Margo more than he loved anyone. But, she hadn’t left his side since he had lied to her about going into Subdrop. Which had been fine, but he needed a moment to figure out what he was going to do about the Julia Problem. As much as he would love to talk about it with Margo it would be difficult since she had no idea it had happened in the first place. “Then who is going to be here to greet everyone? We have to have at least one beautiful host in case some people get here early.” He managed a smile, putting an arm around her shoulder. “And then we’ll drink and watch all the First Years get drunk and fall over themselves while they try and figure out what their limit on alcohol is.”

                “Oh, that’s my favourite game.” Margo sighed and broke away from Eliot. “Fine, take your walk. I still need to get dressed and figure out how I’m going to top your outfit. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

                “I’m being subtle. I don’t need something skin tight to prove I’m attractive.”

                “Are those my pants?”

                “Not when I’m wearing them.”

He turned away and slipped his loafers on. Eventually he was going to have to return to the cottage and deal with the problem. At least he would have Margo with him this time. He wasn’t sure if that was even a good thing. It wasn’t like he could tell Margo what had happened, especially not now that he had already lied to her. She would probably kill Julia and then kill him. Well, maybe not kill him, but he was certain he wouldn’t like the end result.

                The afternoon sun was hot on his face as Eliot stepped out of the cottage. It was absolutely blinding and he fumbled in his blazer pockets for a pair of sunglasses. The glasses helped the pounding in his head a little bit and he didn’t feel quite like he was going to throw up. He didn’t know where he was walking to and he wasn’t sure he really cared. He thought about playing ‘find the Key-and-Bee’. This was his least favourite game and the most tedious one he had ever invented. It had happened after boredom had set in one summer and he had to find _something_ to kill the monotony. Henry had found Eliot once lying face down in the corridor after having counted four thousand eight hundred and sixty-four Key-and-Bees. He hadn’t said anything, but he had checked to make sure Eliot was still alive.

There was a light breeze in the air and it smelled of rain. He followed the path, looking up at the trees to see if the leaves were turning upward. The sky was clear, but he felt like a storm was on the way. Maybe it would rain. Eliot had always liked the rain. It was comforting to be inside, safe and warm, while rain beat like a metronome against the windows. The sound of distant thunder acted like a lullaby and the lightning a faulty nightlight. He glanced up, looking for and sign of a storm cloud, any sign of hope.

                “Hey, Gay Brunet!”

                Eliot looked away from the sky and realised he had nearly walked into someone. The first thing he noticed about the other boy was that he nearly matched Eliot in height. The second thing Eliot realised was that he had absolutely no idea who this boy was. He had a vague memory of maybe seeing him once before, but he couldn’t figure out a name to go with the face. Which would have been more disappointing if the boy had been a little more his type. He had never really gone for the bad-boy in a leather jacket and bad tattoos kind of guy.

                “Sorry, do you mean me or did you wake up with a craving this morning,” Eliot asked, looking over his sunglasses.

                The boy blinked and stared at Eliot as though trying to understand if there was a joke missing. “That’s which one of Quentin’s friends you are, right?”

                “That’s one of the kinder and more accurate things I’ve been called this week,” Eliot told him. “And, yes, I suppose those are gay, brunet, and Quentin’s friend are three adjectives that describe me. Wait, is that last one an adjective? Doesn’t matter. Yes, Eliot, Quentin’s best friend.”

                “Nah, Bitch Brunette is Quentin’s best friend.”

                Eliot rather quickly decided that he liked this boy. Or, at least, he liked the way this boy named people. “Yes, you’re very good at adjectives. And you’re Quentin’s….friend?” Eliot thought that he had met all of Quentin’s friends, considering there were only two that weren’t him.

                The other boy laughed dryly and shook his head. “Hell no. Ten minutes of being his roommate and I didn’t need anything else to do with him. He’s loud and obnoxious.”

                “I take back what I said about your adjective skills.” Quentin was a lot of things, Eliot was learning, but he wasn’t loud and he certainly wasn’t obnoxious. “You’re…his roommate.” It was all coming together. Well, sort of. This was the guy who had the drugs, Eliot liked him more now. “William, right?”

                The boy cringed slightly. “Penny.”

                “How do you get ‘Penny’ out of ‘William’?”

                “King William’s Penny,” he answered as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

                Eliot raised a brow and lowered his sunglasses onto his nose. That…was something he had never heard of before. “What?”

                “Nothing, forget it. There is no William. That guy don’t exist.”

                That wasn’t really an explanation but Eliot didn’t really care anymore. He pushed his glasses back onto his face as the nausea started to return to him. Maybe the Dramamine wasn’t working as well as he had hoped. He swallowed hard and tried to force the sickness back down. “So, you’re Quentin’s roommate. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? Quentin?”

                “Former roommate. I managed to get out of that one. And no. Not…you almost walked into me,” Penny pointed out, crossing his arms. “Figured that while I was here I’d ask if you got Bitch Brunette back or not. Colour me curious.”

                Eliot wasn’t sure if he should act confused or not. Did Quentin just go around talking about everything that happened? Eliot didn’t really want to talk about what had happened with Julia, it made him feel sicker just thinking about it. “I’m not sure what Quentin told you—“

                “Didn’t tell me shit. Didn’t have to. He hasn’t stopped thinking about it for three days so I’ve gotten the worst kind of detail about it.”

                Oh. That made sense and that somehow made things a lot worse. “So you’re a Psychic,” Eliot asked and squeezed his eyes shut tight. Of course Quentin wouldn’t have good wards. Quentin was so naïve about everything. Oh, Eliot had so much to teach him.

                Penny cringed again as though the word physically hurt him. “Don’t…yeah, something like that. And he’s the worst. His mind never shuts up and it’s always either boring shit or fucked up shit. This was one of the more fucked up things. So, you get her back?”

                “It wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

                “Really? So that’s not why you look like shit?”

                “I had a long night. Actually…can you take three steps to the right?”

                “Why?”

                “I’m going to throw up and you don’t look like you have a lot of shoe options so I think we’d both rather I didn’t get vomit on your shoes.”

                Eliot waited until Penny had moved to double over, holding his stomach. It turned out that even Dramamine and Pepto couldn’t combat the horrific side effects of Taxibital. At this point he would take Panic over the sickness. He coughed and sputtered, throwing up the nothingness in his stomach. It hurt more than it had before, the bile burning his stomach and chapped lips. Not only that but there was added humiliation when he felt Penny’s hand pulling a curl back so it didn’t get thrown up on.

                “Why’s it blue?”

                Eliot thought this was a very inappropriate question to ask someone who was in the process of being sick. He wiped his mouth, spit, and managed to stand back up. “I’ve been drinking a lot of Gatorade lately in place of alcohol. Vastly different effects.”

                “Reminds me of the volcano I made in sixth grade.” He looked at Eliot’s baffled expression and shrugged. “It does. Everyone used red food dye except me. I used blue. I liked doin’ things different. Anyway, I failed that project so it doesn’t matter. You okay?”

                “I just threw up. I’ve never felt better.”

                “Yeah, okay, stupid question.” Penny drew his hand back away and stuck it in his pocket, looking like he wasn’t sure why he had touched Eliot in the first place. “This isn’t, like, overdose sick, right? Cause I’ve seen that and if that’s what this is then this is about to get ugly.”

                Eliot shook his head. “No. Well, technically yes, but not the fun kind of overdose. I didn’t get the joy of being high before throwing up. I’m not going to seize up and start convulsing.”

                “So this is why you look like shit? You’re sick? You contagious? Cause I’ll punch you in the throat you get me sick.”

                “It’s Taxibital sick,” he quietly admitted to shut the other boy up. “Hardly contagious. Hardly worth it.” Avoiding Panic was so not worth vomiting in the quad in front of someone he had just met.

                Penny paused and looked like he was going to say something for a moment but stopped himself. He tightened his jaw and looked past Eliot in the direction of the Physical Cottage. “So, you gonna do something about what she did,” he finally asked. “Or are you just gonna make yourself sick again?”

                Right then all Eliot wanted was to figure out a way to avoid Julia so he wouldn’t have to get sick on Taxibital again. “Why should I?” It wasn’t like it would really

                “Someone did me like that I’d sure as hell make sure they didn’t try it again. They realise they can fuck with you once they’ll do it again.” He pursed his lips and checked around him, making sure there wasn’t anyone listening. “Switch, Sub, Dom, whatever you are you don’t have to take shit lying down.”

                Eliot closed his eyes and made sure his wards were up. The last time he had tried to get revenge it had ended with someone actually dying. As much as he hated Julia right then he didn’t want her to be dead. But, maybe Penny had a point. It might be good to do something small, make sure Julia knew not to try this again. Maybe there was something he could do. “Penny, do you want to go to a party?”

                “What? That was…I mean, maybe but what does that have to do with anything?”

                “Just for maybe two minutes. Just keep Julia busy.” A plan was starting to come together in Eliot’s brain, but he would need some help to execute it properly.

                Penny stared at him for a moment before raising a brow. “You gonna steal something?”

                “Something like that.”

                “Like a crime?”

                “No, stealing things like a tea party,” Eliot told him dryly.

                A small smile tugged at Penny’s lips and he gave a small nod. “Yeah, alright, let’s go do some crime. Hey, you’re not gonna throw up again, right?”

 

**Penny**

Reading minds had definitely been a curse. Sure, it had gotten him laid a time or two and had occasionally gotten him out of some rough situations; but for the most part it got him into nothing but trouble. For three days he had been forced to watch and rewatch the scene with Gay Brunet—Eliot—and Bitch Brunette. It was pretty hypocritical of him, but Penny couldn’t stand a bully. He couldn’t stand to watch a static memory of the same guy getting terrified over and over again. Something had to be done and, hell, he was up for some revenge. Bitch Brunette deserved it and it meant that Quentin would have to deal with it, which was just an added bonus. He definitely deserved it for not having better wards up.

                He didn’t care about Eliot, not personally. What he cared about was Doms (or, in this case, Switches) who seemed to think all Subs were below them. It was exactly why Penny had never bothered with other Doms. So many of them seemed to just be dicks on power trips. Of course, he never bothered with Subs because they were all clingy. It was hard to believe that the guy leading him to the cottage was the Sub from Quentin’s memory.

                Eliot looked confident when he moved, like he was some kind of Prince and Brakebills was his kingdom. He didn’t look like someone who would get scared and run out of a room. Of course, he also didn’t look like he had just thrown up five minutes ago. Penny wondered if he had an acting coach that helped him learn to be like this.

                “So, what’s your plan here?” Penny said as he kept stride with the other boy.

                “Oh, you’ll see.”

                Something about that was really, really worrying. Maybe it was just because Eliot had basically sung it instead of actually saying it. Or maybe it was just that he wasn’t entirely sure that Eliot had a plan at all. Even if he didn’t have a clue what he was doing the kid had confidence and Penny had to give him credit for that. He certainly _looked_ like he knew what he was doing.

                “Cigarette,” Eliot offered, suddenly stopping and turning around. Every motion he made was so fluid and graceful, like he was dancing instead of walking.

                Penny looked down and couldn’t help but roll his eyes. The guy had a cigarette case. How pretentious could one person be? Staring down Penny almost laughed. Scratch that. He _did_ laugh. “Are those ultra-lights?”

                Eliot looked hurt by the laughter and withdrew his cigarettes. “Your point?”

                “My point is that I’m not fifteen and smoking in the boy’s room. I have grown up cigarettes, thanks anyway, kid.” Reaching into his pockets he pulled out a box of Marlboro Reds. “You got a light?”

                The hurt faded from Eliot’s face and he looked perfectly smug. “Oh, I always have a light. It’s one of the perks of being me.” He snapped his fingers, producing a flame and lighting the tip of his cigarette. “Of course, I’m certain that since you’re so much more grown-up than me you shouldn’t have any problems, right?” He smirked, rocking back on his heels.

                Penny pursed his lips. “Cute trick,” he said, a smirk tugging on his lips. So, the brat thought that he was clever with his little fire. Penny was certain that he could do it, but he had a better idea. He reached out, plucking the cigarette from between Eliot’s lips and used that cherry to light his cigarette. He threw the Merit on the ground, crushing it under his heel. “Oops.”

                Blinking, Eliot looked down at the crushed cigarette and then back up at Penny. He went on in this fashion for quite some time, apparently unable to speak. Finally he closed his eyes and it was as though a change went through him. He looked back up at Penny with the same devil-may-care attitude he’d had before. “Well, that was quite rude.” He immediately lit another cigarette. Well, not immediately. He took a step away from Penny first.

                “You started it.”

                “I so didn’t start it.”

                “Yeah you did.”

                Eliot started walking again and Penny was certain he would have crossed his arms and pouted if he hadn’t been smoking. “Typical Dom,” he said quietly.

                “Hey,” Penny snapped, causing Eliot to immediately stop. “Don’t you pull that ‘Typical Dom’ shit on me. I’m not a Dom. Or not, like…I mean, I’m a Dom, yeah, but not, like…a real Dom.” He realised that he had absolutely no idea how to explain this. It wasn’t like he went out looking for Subs. Ever. In his life he’d had a total of one Sub. He always felt better with Switches. It took a lot of the pressure off.

                “Right, you’re a Dom who isn’t a Dom. Because _that_ makes sense.”

                “Yeah, it makes as much sense as a Sub who isn’t a Sub.”

                That seemed to end the argument and Eliot focused most of his attention on his cigarette. It looked like he was wracking his brain trying to come up with a counter-argument and Penny had mixed emotions. On the one hand he was smug that he had won, on the other hand he had caught a glimpse of Eliot’s face as he turned away. There was a sense of shame etched into his features that made Penny feel…odd. It had been the same face that Eliot had had in Quentin’s memory of him hiding under a mess of blankets. Penny didn’t feel sorry for Eliot. Pity didn’t suit him. He couldn’t explain it but there was an overwhelming desire boiling inside of him to get back at Julia as quickly as possible.

                Penny didn’t know what to say so he just put one hand in his pocket and let Eliot lead the rest of the way across campus. The Victorian style house came into view. Eliot looked back as though he expected Penny to be impressed. He wasn’t. He just took a drag off his cigarette before flicking the butt into a nearby hedge. The hedge shook and the burned out filter of the cigarette rolled onto the grass. Penny was starting to hate magic.

                “It looks as though they figured out a way in,” Eliot commented as he pushed open the gate and headed up the porch steps. The top half of the door was completely gone and Eliot looked completely unperturbed by this. He simply ran his hand along the remnants of the door and frowned at the ash. “Well, I suppose that’s one way of going about it.” He kicked the bottom of the door to open it, which Penny thought was stupid because they could have easily just stepped over it.

                It was like a house party out of a bad teen movie inside. Terrible music was playing from somewhere and everyone was drinking. Some people had glasses and some people had actual red solo cups (“Animals,” Eliot had said, shaking his head).

                Eliot turned away from the party and looked at Penny. “Alright then, you know exactly why you’re here. I shouldn’t be more than five minutes, if I am—“

                “Hey, you’re here.”

                Eliot froze, his body tensing up. He locked eyes with Penny before quickly looking away, swallowing hard. Drawing up a deep breath he turned around and looked down at Julia. “I live here,” he said, his voice much stronger than Penny expected it to be.

                “Right, me too,” Julia said. She looked at Eliot and her face contorted into something that was a cross between a smile and a grimace, as though the awkwardness of the conversation made her unable to choose an expression. “Look, I’ve been talking to Quentin—“

                “Yes, I assume you have,” Eliot said, cutting her short.

                She nodded, her expression turning more into a full on grimace by the second. “I was just wondering if maybe we could…talk for a second.”

                “I would rather we didn’t.”

                “Eliot, I just want to talk. The other night was a mistake,”

                Penny stepped forward, looking down at Julia. Eliot was good at acting, that was for sure. If Penny had been watching this scene without knowing what happened before then he would have thought everything was fine. But, knowing what had happened before, he was almost positive that Eliot was scared. There were more people around and if Julia Dommed him here then the effects would be brutal. “Hey, back off,” he said, his voice a deadly calm.

                Immediately the attention was off Eliot and onto him. Julia looked up, squaring her shoulders. “What’re you doing here?”

                “Just trying to get a free drink and listen to bad club music, the same thing everyone else is doing,” he told her, clenching his jaw.

                “Most of us _live_ here. Last I checked you didn’t. Shouldn’t you be in your own…wherever you live? Or are you planning on bullying Quentin a little more?”

                Those were mighty big words coming from someone who had forced Dominance on someone, but Penny managed to bite back a comment about the irony. “Hey, I’m not gate-crashing. I was invited.”

                “Oh yeah? By?”

                Penny was about to point to Eliot but the little shit had apparently seen the argument as the perfect opportunity to get away. “Does it matter? I’m here and you’re between me and the bar right now. Dangerous place to be standing.”

                Julia didn’t move. She just crossed her arms and stared up at Penny as though daring him to do something. “You’ve been relentless cruel to Quentin and now you show up here after being so excited to be away from him?”

                “I’ve been…” Penny let out a dry and hollow laugh. “God, you don’t even see yourself, do you?”

                She faltered, just a little bit, and stared up at him in clear confusion. “What does _that_ mean?”

                It was really almost funny. She was standing there calling him cruel without accepting anything she did as being unjust. He didn’t need to see into Quentin’s head to know that the little nerd had a crush on Julia. It was painfully obvious to anyone with eyes and it almost hurt to watch because she clearly wasn’t interested in anything except stringing him along. Maybe Penny had been an ass to Quentin, but at least he had been open and honest about it. “Quentin’s your Plan B,” he said with a smirk, leaning down close to her.

                “Again, what does that mean?”

                “It means that you’re not interested in him, but you’re not confident enough to flat out tell him that. Things go south for you and whatever you’re with then you’ve got a back-up plan with Quentin. And you know he won’t do shit without you. Plan. B.” That was, at least, what Quentin thought about at three in the morning. “I’d say he’s not what you want, but you don’t know what you want. You don’t want Quentin, but god, if anyone else has him! Your little life would crumble. I wonder why he’s your only friend. Your only friend is someone too afraid to ever say no. Hmm…”

                Julia stared at him and shook her head. “You don’t know anything about me or Quentin,” she said, but she looked away like she was guilty.

                Penny straightened himself back up, feeling pretty satisfied with this. “Yeah, what do I know? I’m just—“ He stopped talking, looked past her and saw Eliot coming back down the steps. He had a backpack in his hands and a smirk on his face. Apparently whatever the plan was had been successful. “You know what? I don’t have to stand here and argue with you. I got better things to do.”

                “Glad you realised that. Look, I’m going to try to find Eliot you…just go.”

                “Whatever. Party’s lame anyway.”

                Before he left he grabbed a bottle of something off a table and stepped over the broken door and back into the sunshine. The bottle was open and he took a drink. It was some kind of wine. He didn’t really know or care what kind. It looked red in the bottle though. The only red wine he knew was merlot so he decided that this was merlot.

                “That was surprisingly easy,” Eliot said, catching up quickly with Penny, a fresh cigarette hanging from between his lips. “Oh, sangiovese.”

                “The fuck did you just call me?”

                Eliot blinked before pointing a slender finger at the wine. “Sangiovese. It’s from this delightful winery in Southern Italy. Better served in a glass, but I didn’t think to bring any. Shame, we could have had a picnic.”

                Penny wasn’t sure if Eliot was joking or not. He just took another drink of the not-merlot. “Whatever. So, what’d you do?”

                “Nothing yet. Not exactly.

                “Look, you’ve got my attention, I’m curious. What’s in the bag?”

                Ashing his cigarette Eliot reached out and took the bottle from Penny’s hands. He took a drink, letting his eyes close as he held the wine in his mouth for a moment, looking like he was savouring the flavor. “This bag happens to contain roughly ninety percent of the cloth items Julia had in her room.”

                “The what?”

                “Well, I was going to just get her clothes, but that seemed like it would take actual effort and I’m completely unwilling to waste more energy than is necessary. The spell is effective, but not very discriminatory. I have her clothes, curtains, a few ribbons.”

                “And it all fits in that little bag?”

                “Little spell I picked up from Miss Granger.”

                “Who?” Penny asked, giving Eliot the chance to take the reference back.

                Eliot shrugged and took another drink of wine before handing the bottle back to Penny. “Oh, you wouldn’t know her, she graduated a few years ago. Anyway, I’ve always liked a good fire. I thought perhaps we could go down by the Hudson and start one.”

                That was actually not the worst plan Penny could think of. Honestly, it was better than he expected. Honestly, he had anticipated something way less interesting. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Penny thought it was very clever. “First, show me the fire trick.”

                Eliot smiled. “I would love to. Come on.”

                He led them across campus down to a little boat house by the river. It was secluded, as though it was part of a world away from Brakebills. There was a certain stillness and silence about it that made it feel unreal. The only sound came from the gentle water flowing lazily. Eliot sat down and motioned for Penny to sit beside him.

                It felt absolutely ridiculous but Penny put the wine on level ground and sat in front of Eliot. They spent the next twenty minutes with Eliot explaining the motions and helping Penny through his hand motions. He reached out several times and adjusted Penny’s hand, shaking his head. A couple times he dramatically collapsed on the ground as though in physical pain when Penny didn’t get it right. Penny just gritted his teeth, each failure making him more determined to get it right. He didn’t fail without a fight.

                Finally, after what felt like forever there was a spark. Then a flame. He did it again. Then again just to make sure he had it right. “I think I’ve got it.”

                Eliot grinned, looking proud. He pulled himself off the ground, brushed off his pants, and grabbed his backpack. “You did. Good job. You managed to do something I was doing at fifteen. Congratulations. Because of that you can start the—“ He was cut off by clothes and blankets exploding out of his bag and knocking him over. He lay on the ground, half hidden by Julia’s things, looking shell shocked, and his sunglasses had gotten knocked off.

                Penny nearly fell over laughing. To be fair, Eliot kind of deserved that for his being a dick about the spell. “You okay?” Penny asked, getting up to offer Eliot a hand.

                “Fine. I’m fine. I think I hit my head,” Eliot whined, taking Penny’s hand and letting Penny pull him up. “Ow. How did she manage to hurt me without even being here?”

                “I think it’s your spell.”

                “My spells are always perfect.”

                “Apparently not. Hold on, you have grass in your hair.” It seemed like Eliot’s hair was a magnet for whatever was on the ground. Penny roughly ran a hand through the curls, knocking out the leaves and grass. “Now you look a little less like you got knocked out by clothes.”

                “There were also blankets in there too. Thank you,” he added quietly, looking ashamed at having said a ‘thank you’ at all. “Anyway, let’s get this into a pile and, since you’re excited about the spell, you can light it.”

                That seemed nice and Penny got the feeling it was the nicest thing Eliot could come up with. But, it wasn’t right. “Nah, man, this is your fire. I mean, I’m here because I hate Julia and like fire. She hurt you, now you get to fuck up her shit. Go for it, priss.”

                Eliot stared at him for a moment. “That was almost nice except the bit where you called me priss.”

                “Yeah, well, it’s a compliment coming from me.” It was. If Penny wanted to insult him it would be too easy. There were too many places to hit, all of them low, and Penny wasn’t going there. “You are a priss. Now, let’s get this shit together and burn it down, priss.”

                A smile tugged at Eliot’s lips and he turned quickly as though he hoped Penny wouldn’t see. He looked so different than he had in Quentin’s memory. Hell, he looked different than he had an hour ago. He didn’t look scared or sick. He looked almost like he was enjoying himself. As he put the clothing into a pile there was a thin smile on his face. It was almost cute. Almost. He was cute like a mangy puppy. Like he needed to be protected but also might bite if you offered any protection.

                Penny shook his head. Eliot didn’t need protection. He needed help getting things into a pile. So, Penny gathered up cardigans and jeans and threw them in with the things Eliot had gathered. Before long they had everything piled up and stood back to admire their work. Eliot looked especially proud of it. He stood with his hands on his hips and the setting sun behind him, just looking the mountain of clothes and blankets.

                “Well, let’s burn the fucker down,” Eliot said with an almost manic smile.

                “Go for it, priss.”

                “Don’t call me priss.” He may have said that, but he didn’t sound like he meant it. Eliot knelt down, his hands working faster and in a more complex pattern than Penny could imagine. Whatever he was doing it certainly wasn’t the spell he had taught Penny earlier.

                Suddenly, a ring of fire swirled around the bottom of the pile, rising up in a spiral until everything was engulfed in red and yellow flames. Eliot walked over to Penny so they could both admire his work.

                “Damn, you really like fire,” Penny said, watching the flames spin and twist in unnatural circles.

                Eliot nodded, his face illuminated by the inferno. “I’ve always had a fascination with fire. It’s alive without really being alive. It needs certain things to survive. It burns and for a few minutes it’s bright, beautiful, and brilliant. Then it dies down to coals and becomes ash to return to the earth.” He paused to light a cigarette. “Sometimes, if you make it special enough, fire can be memorable. I try to make all my fires memorable.”

                It really was a memorable fire. As the sun set behind the trees Penny was better able to see the flames. The spirals weren’t just coils of flames, they were in the shape of something. Penny looked closer and realised they had wings, like flaming butterflies. They flew up from the bonfire and circled around it before dying in puffs of smoke. It was artistic and beautiful.

                “Yeah, ‘cause that’s not dramatic,” Penny said, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

                Eliot took a drag off his cigarette, staring at the flames. “They’re fireflies. Like those but literal.” He used his free hand to point to the treetops where bugs lit up the sky with bursts of light green.

                Penny looked up, watching the bugs for a minute before giving Eliot a light shove. It wasn’t hard enough to knock him over, but it did make him drop his cigarette and he had to bend over to pick it up. “Those aren’t fireflies. They’re lighten-bugs.”

                Standing back up Eliot stared at Penny for a moment. “Lighten-bugs? That doesn’t make sense. They’re called fireflies.”

                “They don’t look like fire. They’re called lighten-bugs because they lighten up the sky.”

                A laugh escaped Eliot. He nearly doubled over laughing; his cigarette forgotten in a moment of whatever he had decided was hilarious. He was laughing so hard that Penny thought he was going to make himself sick again. After what seemed like forever he straightened back up and wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh, that’s adorably stupid. I love it.”

                It didn’t seem like it was stupid until just then. Someone had once told Penny that that was what they were called, but he was beginning to think he had either heard wrong or been misled. “Makes more sense than fireflies,” he mumbled.

                “ _Lightning_ bug, not lighten. I guess their bioluminescence reminds _some_ people of lightning. But literally no one says lighten-bug” Eliot said, throwing the butt of his cigarette into the fire. “Come on. I want to show you something really cool. The fire has started to bore me.”

                “Oh, shut the fuck up,” Penny grumbled, crossing his arms. So, he had a bit of a Southern accent that made his fuck up words sometimes. Big fucking deal. He’s get Eliot back for it later. Maybe push him in the mud or something. He took a last look at the fire, thinking that it was kind of cool but not saying anything . That would not only be complimenting Eliot’s spell but it would be admitting that he was interested in something that was lame. So, he stuck his hands in his pockets and followed behind Eliot. “Now what?”

                Eliot whipped around, walking backwards. He seemed to know the campus so well he could probably walk it blindfolded. “Have you been to the Observation Tower?”

                “No.”

                “Oh, you’ll love it. It’s absolutely fantastic up there, trust me. There’s so much to see, so much to do. Are you in?”

                It felt like Eliot was jerking Penny all across campus. First The Cottage, then the Hudson, and now he wanted to go to some tower. What the hell, Penny thought, there was no reason not to go. He had liked exploring the campus, finding things out, he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to find another new place. “Let’s make it quick. I got shit to do.” He didn’t, but Eliot didn’t need to know that.

                


	6. Chapter 6

                Eliot led the way to the Observatory. It was a path he had walked many times and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. It was still early in the school year and he hadn’t been up there that semester. Penny was going to be his first of the year, but there was something different in it this time. The thing was that Penny knew Eliot was Submissive. Penny had read Quentin’s mind and knew, so, there was anxiety mixed in with his excitement. He didn’t know what kind of Dom Penny would be. Penny had said he wasn’t really a Dom, which worried Eliot more than it should have. He could be a Sweet Daddy or a Strict Master. Eliot wasn’t sure which he wanted right then. All he knew was that he had to thank Penny in some way.

                It was unclear whether his stomach turning was a side-effect of the Taxibital from earlier or maybe it was just his own nerves catching up with him. Eliot slowed down enough to walk beside Penny, taking the bottle of wine from him to get a drink. There wasn’t a high enough alcohol content in it for Eliot to actually feel drunk, but he did feel better. And there was something very calming about walking with someone in the moonlight and sharing a bottle of wine.

                “So, how far is this?” Penny said, breaking the silence they had been in for the past ten minutes.

                “Oh, not much further now,” Eliot promised.

It really wasn’t that much further. Penny had asked right as they had crested the hill to the Observatory. Eliot pulled opened the door and lead Penny up the spiral staircase. Eliot remembered the last time he had walked up the twisting steps. He hadn’t been leading the way the last time. Rather, he had been pulled alone by his tie, nearly tripping over his own feet, both of them giggling and shushing each other. They had stopped before the trap door and kissed while the boy had called Eliot things that made his pants tighter just remembering them. It had been almost nice.

                There was no laughing on the stairway this time. Penny didn’t call Eliot anything other than incredibly slow. Eliot pushed open the trap door and pulled himself up and checked the room. During the day it was usually completely safe, there wasn’t any reason for most people to go up there when the sun was out. At night, however, there was a bit more danger to it that excited Eliot. Thankfully, the room was completely empty and they were safe. He offered Penny a hand and Penny swatted it away.

                “Thanks, but I got it,” Penny told him.

                Eliot stood back and let Penny finish climbing into the room. He always liked to see people’s reactions when they first came up there. Most people were in awe of the ornate telescope. It was an absolutely beautiful piece of equipment. It took up most of the room and the brass shone in the dim light. Eliot turned and expected to see Penny looking amazed.

 Instead, Penny stood there with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted slightly to the side. “Cool,” he said flatly. “It’s really big. And, uh, shiny? Why are you looking at me like that?”

                There was a little disappointment, but Eliot reminded himself that the telescope wasn’t the coolest thing in the room. “C’mon, I want to show you the best part.” He reached out and grabbed Penny’s wrist, leading him around the telescope.

                “Hey, what the hell are you doing?”

                Eliot grinned and stopped, pushing Penny down in the threadbare orange chair. Getting the chair up there had been a pain in the ass, but it had been great since. “This,” he said and stepped back, waiting.

                Penny raised an eyebrow and looked down at his lap, confused. “Uh, it’s a chair? Okay, you’re showing me a lot of weird shit. What’s going on?”

                “Why do you think people come to the Observatory? Come on, Penny, think with the right brain.”

                “I really don’t know. To look at stars, probably?”

                “Oh, you’ll see some stars if I do this right,” Eliot promised. He lowered himself down to his knees, putting his hands on Penny’s thighs.

                Penny jerked back, almost jumping out of the chair. “Woah! Hey! What the hell are you doing?”

                Well, this was odd. Eliot had never had to explain this before.  Usually people got the point pretty quickly. Maybe he just hadn’t flirted enough with Penny beforehand but he thought that the fire spell and then the fire and then the invitation to go somewhere private had been pretty self-explanatory. “I was going to give you a blowjob. To thank you.”

                “Oh,” Penny said. It wasn’t an ‘oh’ like ‘oh I understand now’ it was more like ‘oh, oh god’. “Look, you don’t…you’re not just _giving me a blowjob_ ,” Penny told him.

                Eliot winced slightly because he absolutely hated this and he was pretty sure he understood what kind of Dom Penny was. This was going to be humiliating, but he still wanted to thank Penny. “Okay, okay.” He took a breath, preparing himself for this. “Please,” he purred out, the word sounded beautiful coming from his mouth but felt somewhat sticky. He nuzzled his face against Penny crotch, looking up at him and blinking slowly. “Please, let me do it, Sir. I’ll do anything. I won’t even touch myself until you’re satisfied. Please, Sir? I want it so—“

                “Stop!” Penny pushed Eliot away, causing him to tumble backwards and slide against the hardwood floor. “Stop. You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t do anything and I don’t even want a blowjob. And don’t _ever_ call me ‘Sir’ again. Understand?”

                This was the first time _this_ had happened. Eliot had been forced to beg and plead and had been made to hold off on his own satisfaction before. He had gotten his hair pulled, been spat on, and insulted to the point where he was practically writhing with want. But he had never had someone just push him away before. “Right, _this bullshit._ Got it. Hold on. Sorry, I know, I have to earn the right to call you that. Sorry. But can you just let me—“

                “You don’t have to earn anything. I don’t like being called Sir or anything like that. It’s stupid. It’s insanely stupid and I’m not having it and did you bring me up here for a blowjob? I’m not gay.”

                “Getting a blowjob isn’t gay.”

                “It is when a guy is doing it to another guy. Stop. You’re being pathetic.”

                “I just wanted to thank you,” Eliot whined, sitting back up on his knees. He wasn’t being pathetic…was he? His chest burned and he took a deep breath to steady himself. Being rejected hurt more than he expected it to. “It’s not pathetic. And everyone likes a blowjob . Just…just let me do this. Please. And don’t make me beg again, I hate begging. And I hate calling people ‘Sir’ anyway.”

                Penny was quiet for a moment before he rolled his eyes. “You’re really not like a real Sub, are you?”

                Eliot looked up and quickly looked back down. “You wouldn’t know I was a Sub if you hadn’t read Quentin’s mind… To be fair I wouldn’t have known you were a Dom if…well, it’s kind of obvious by the way you stand. And walk. And sometimes your voice gets really forceful. Um, I’m not actually sure where I was going with this but I really would like to give you a blowjob.” He really did. “I can unbutton your pants with my mouth…”

                “No, I can tell you’re a Sub. Otherwise you wouldn’t flip out this much over thanking someone.” He paused before sighing and rubbing his temple. “Why the fuck do you want to give me a blowjob anyway?”

                Eliot sat back on his heels and looked down. “You helped me? I thought I would return the favour.” He was keeping his voice strong despite the panic happening in his head. If Penny didn’t want a blowjob then what did he want?

                Penny shook his head. “Look, I wasn’t doing you any favours. I wanted to see you get back at Julia and you weren’t going to do shit on your own. You don’t have to thank me for anything. You sure as hell don’t owe me a blowjob over it.”

                A silence fell between them and the only sound was from the rain gently starting to beat against the glass windows. Eliot couldn’t understand. According to all of the evidence Penny should have been into this. Penny was a Dom, they had started a fire together, they had drank wine together. Eliot couldn’t figure out where he had gone wrong but he was starting to suspect that he had overlooked something.

                “Shit, you okay?” Penny asked, sounding far away. His voice was distant, like Eliot was underwater and listening to him.

                Eliot closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The realisation that he was anxious didn’t make the anxiety stop. He didn’t know what to expect next, but things weren’t going according to plan at all. By this point Penny should have been groaning in ecstasy and whispering words that would make a sailor blush. Instead there was an awkward tension between them and Eliot’s mouth felt dry, his head swimming. Even if he thought of something to say he wasn’t sure he could convince his mouth to make words.

                Penny slipped out of the chair, eyes narrowed in confusion and concern. “Hey, look, it’s fine. You just…thought something was going to happen that isn’t happening. It’s totally fine, dude. Stop…looking like that.”

                When Penny went to put his hand on Eliot’s shoulder Eliot involuntarily winced and pulled away. Penny didn’t want a blowjob, he didn’t even want to be there, so, Eliot didn’t know what was going to happen. He had fucked up, completely. He had made a completely wrong assumption and now he had to deal with whatever the consequences of that were. Was he going to get hit? Penny looked like he could hit someone hard if he wanted to.

                Immediately, Penny pulled back. “It’s fine, I’m not going to hurt you,” Penny said as though he could read Eliot’s mind. This opened a whole new world of concerns.

                Taking another deep breath Eliot tried to steady his composure. “Are my-are my wards still up?” he asked, his voice sounding much stronger than he felt. If he could slip his mask back into place then he would be fine, it was just a matter of blocking out the overwhelming fear he was feeling.

                “What? Oh, yeah, you’re fine there. Look, are you alright? Cause, I can’t just, like, leave you sitting on the floor looking like you just had a lobotomy.”

                “Looking…like what?”

                “Like you had a lobotomy. You know, all, like staring off into space and scared or whatever.”

                “I’m not scared,” Eliot said, sitting up a little straighter. “What reason do I have to be afraid of you?”

                Penny raised an eyebrow, silently speaking volumes. He didn’t actually say anything, he didn’t have to. They both knew.

                Eliot sighed, drawing his knee up and wrapping his arms around it. “I probably look like an idiot,” he muttered, feeling some of the fear start to evaporate.

                “Yeah, you do.”

                “You weren’t supposed to agree with that.”

                Shrugging, Penning leaned back against the chair. “Well, you do kinda look stupid right now. I mean, I’m not gay, first of all, so I don’t want you to give me a blowjob. Second, I’m not your Dom or anyone else’s, so I’m not gonna like, I don’t know…whatever you thought I was going to do.”

                “Punish me for being wrong,” Eliot guessed.

                Penny cringed and nodded. “Yeah, no, I’m not doing that. Besides, I thought that you hated Subbing. Isn’t this the type of thing that, like, you hate doing?”

                The begging part Eliot hated. He hated having to beg for anything, it was degrading and humiliating, which he supposed was part of the point of it. But, the Subbing part…it wasn’t all bad. Not when he could feel safe. “You already know I’m-I’m a Sub,” he began, looking away from Penny. “I didn’t think I had anything to lose by Subbing for you. Turns out that I forgot about losing my pride.”

                “You have pride?” Penny paused and shook his head. “You…wanted to Sub for me?”

                “Only because you’re one of the only people who knows! If it weren’t for Julia…God only knows who else she’s told by now.” He hadn’t stopped to think about it, but he couldn’t imagine her stopping.

                “I don’t know. I don’t really think anybody cares but you, honestly. I mean, yeah, you’re a Sub, it probably fucking sucks, I wouldn’t know. Some people are going to take advantage of that or whatever. Some people look down on Subs, What the fuck ever. Punch ‘em in the throat. That’ll shut ‘em up quick.”

                Looking over at Penny Eliot managed a weak smile. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

                “On second thought, you got twig arms. Anybody bothers you then you come get me and I’ll punch ‘em in the throat. You’d probably break your hand trying to throw a punch.”

                Eliot rolled his eyes and relaxed a little more. Penny definitely wasn’t going to hurt him. Not right then, anyway. “Then I’ll have to find some way of thanking you.”

                Penny gave Eliot a slight push. “Yeah, because that’s gonna happen. C’mon, I wanna get something to eat before the dining hall closes.”

                “Oh, you can just come eat at the cottage,” Eliot offered.

                “Yeah, I think I’ll pass. I think you need to chill out before you try to do anything. You almost flipped out on me.” Eliot must have looked confused because Penny shrugged and offered his hand out. “I may not Dom much, but I know what a freaked out Sub looks out. I know what Panic is and everything. I’m not an idiot. You okay?”

                Eliot ignored Penny’s offer to help him up. “I’m fine,” he lied. “You go on, I’m going to wait for the rain to slow down.”

                “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. You look like you might throw yourself off the tower if you’re left alone.”

                Rolling his eyes Eliot finally took Penny’s hand and pulled himself up. “Even if I did feel like doing that—which I don’t—it wouldn’t do any good. There are wards around to keep people from doing that very thing. Even if I jumped out of the tower then I wouldn’t get hurt.”

                “And you know this how?”

                “I had to prove a point,” Eliot explained. He had suspected that there were wards up to keep people from jumping out of buildings. As he had suspected, he hadn’t gotten hurt, but alarm bells had gone off and he had to spend an hour explaining that he wasn’t suicidal, just curious.

                Penny raised his brow. “What if you were wrong?”

                Eliot shrugged. It wasn’t like it was a terribly long fall. Sure, it would have hurt, but he didn’t think it would have killed him if he fell right. “I guess a lot of people would be smug,”

                All Penny could do was roll his eyes and start down the twisting staircase, leading the way this time. The sound of the rain was louder in the stairwell, echoing off the side of the building and drowning out any sound. Even if they had wanted to the two couldn’t continue their conversation over the sound of rain. Which meant that Eliot didn’t have time to stop Penny before the other boy stepped out into the storm.

                Taking a breath Eliot chased after Penny, working his hands the whole time. By the time he caught up he had a nice invisible shield over his head, keeping him dry. It would have been more effective if he had been able to do it in the dry considering he was now soaked, but at least they had some shelter now. “You could have waited,” Eliot said, crossing his arms and shivering. His shirt stuck uncomfortably to his chest and his shoes squished when he walked. He liked rain better when he didn’t have to be directly in it.

                Penny looked up at the invisible shelter and nodded as though silently approving of it. “Yeah, how was I supposed to know you had some kind of magic umbrella?”

                “It’s a Mang Protective Shield,” Eliot told him, rolling his eyes. It wouldn’t protect him from anything really big and dangerous, but it worked pretty well for the rain. “How have you not studied this? It’s basic stuff. I mean, this is the most basic thing I could have done. Honestly, if you really wanted—ow!”

                Apparently bored with Eliot’s ramblings Penny lightly hit him on the back of the head to silently tell him to shut up. “I spent a lot of my time in the rain as a kid. Not like it’s cold.” He paused and looked over at Eliot. “Apparently you disagree.”

                “I’m cold and freezing,” Eliot whined, wrapping his arms tighter around himself.

                “Don’t you have a spell in your arsenal to warm yourself up?”

                Eliot shot Penny a look before glaring down at the ground. “I don’t want to upset the balance of already having one charm up. Yes, I could, it wouldn’t be that difficult, but I would have to put forth actual effort and also my fingers are cold.”

                Penny laughed, rifling through his pockets. “So, you’ll freeze before you actually act like you care about something. Good plan.” He pulled out his cigarettes, groaning when he found his pack crushed and wet. “Alright, give me a Merit.”

                “Oh, now you want a Merit? Weren’t you making fun of me for those?”

                “Hey, consider it a way to thank me,” Penny told him. “Like a blowjob but without you having to be creepy about it.”

                Reaching into his pocket Eliot grabbed his cigarettes and handed one over to Penny, watching as the other boy lit it using the fire spell Eliot had taught him. There was something akin to pride in Eliot as he watched. It would have been almost romantic if Eliot hadn’t made a complete idiot out of himself earlier. “Here, I’ll show you the Mang Protective Shield so you don’t have to walk back in the rain,” Eliot said as they approached the cottage.

                The two Magicians sat on the gazebo outside the cottage, finishing their cigarettes as the rain continued to pour down. Eliot let his shield drop once they were under the shelter. It was nice, calm, and there was something incredibly peaceful about the two of them sitting there and practising magic. Penny was a lot smarter than he looked. It didn’t take him long to pick up on the spell and Eliot liked watching him work. He looked so focused and in the moment. His amber eyes were narrowed in concentration and though his fingers were a bit clumsy at first they began to move with fluidity and grace. Honestly, Eliot could have just sat there and watched him all night. The glow from the cottage cast a yellow light over Penny’s face, his features exaggerated by the shadows. He worked silently and diligently as though he had forgotten that Eliot was there at all.

                It was several minutes before the nearly invisible shield appeared over Penny. It was thin and you could just barely see the outline of it, but it was there. He looked over to Eliot. “That look—why are you staring at me like that?”

                Eliot blinked. He hadn’t even realised that he had been staring. For a moment he had gotten lost, just watching Penny focus, his mouth slightly agape and his head tilted. He was beautiful when he was focused. “It’s a bit small,” Eliot said, “but keep working on it. It’ll get better.”

                “Well, you’re not a bad teacher, I guess.”

                Pride swelled up in Eliot. God, the praise. It brought a blush to his cheeks and he had to look away for a moment. He had taught Penny two different spells in the course of one afternoon. Granted, they were simple spells, but it still made Eliot happy. “Walk me to the door?”

                Penny rolled his eyes and pulled Eliot onto his feet. “What? Priss can’t get wet?”

                “Don’t call me Priss.”

                “I have to, I can’t remember your name, Eliot. Besides, it’s that or ‘Gay Brunet’. And I like Priss better.”

                Eliot grinned and headed across the damp grass. It wasn’t a long walk by any means, just a few feet and Penny’s Mang Protective Shield worked like a charm. The awkwardness from earlier seemed to have dissipated greatly and Eliot wasn’t sure what the next step was. In all the Rom-Com movies he and Margo watched people kissed on doorsteps in the rain. It was considered very romantic in the movies, but now Eliot thought it would be cold and wet. He would much rather kiss inside by the fire over glasses of merlot.

                As they stood on the porch Eliot looked up. His wet hair curled down and stuck to his face. “This is the part where you kiss me.”

                Penny laughed and ruffled Eliot’s hair. “Yeah, and then we get married and raise llamas in South Dakota.”

                “That’s oddly specific.”

                “Goodnight, Priss.”

                Smiling, Eliot put his hand on the doorknob. “Goodnight, Psychic.” With the door halfway open Eliot leaned forward and stole a kiss, his lips just barely brushing against Penny’s cheek. He slipped inside the cottage before Penny even had the chance to react. Eliot was blushing hard as he leaned against the inside of the door. It had actually been a good night, despite the minimal drinking. He actually hoped that he would get the chance to see Penny again. Penny was nice and, in some strange way, seemed to respect Eliot despite him being a Sub. Eliot had never met a Dom like that before. Eliot didn’t know how to explain it. Penny wasn’t like other Doms. The only other Dom that respected Eliot like that was Margo.

                As he started to come down from the brief kiss Eliot realised that something was terribly wrong. The music had stopped, everyone who didn’t live there had been sent home. Someone was crying in the living room. Curious, Eliot followed the sound before he was stopped by Margo.

                “There you are—you’re soaking wet! Eliot, where did you go?”

                “Oh, on a walk,” he explained. “Why did the party stop? Figure I would’ve gotten back in time to get at least a few shots in.

”Something happened.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is a little bit more intense than the last ones. Most of the questions you might have about what happens should be answered in the next chapter. Just warning for Eliot getting beaten, a lot of panic, and bad Sum/Dom etiquette. (The next chapter should be fluffier though!)

**Margo**

 

Eliot was grinning like an idiot, leaning against the door and staring past her like he hadn’t heard her speak. “Something happened? First years get drunk and out of control?”

She rolled her eyes at him and clenched the burning hot location charm in her hand before shoving it into her pocket. One day out of bed and less than twelve hours fresh from puking his guts out but he was already back to causing trouble. It was hard not to be at least a bit impressed, even proud. Still, there was a hurt first year crying about her missing curtains. That had to be dealt with, whether or not it was good to see Eliot back to himself. Obviously either he was involved or her spellwork was flawed and she’d been damned good at magic lately.

“Eliot!”  she said, faux-brightly. “Sorry, Julia, I just need a second to talk to him. I’ll be back to helping you in a minute. Promise.”

Without waiting for a response she grabbed him by the arm and half-led half-dragged him away from the commons and into the hallway. “What have you done?” she asked, somewhere between cross and delighted. On the one hand he was back in full form but on the other she hadn’t been invited. Hell, he’d left her so far out of the loop that she’d made the mistake of enchanting a compass to help Julia look for her ‘lost’ things.

“You’ll need to be more specific than that,” he purred, imminently smackable. Obviously he had some gossip about a tryst that he was overeager to share but it wasn’t the time.

“Eliot.” She had to struggle to sound firm rather than giddy. “Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”

Eliot rubbed the light stubble on his chin in mock concentration. “Depends. Do you think that I seduced a boy with fire and kissed him? Because if you think that then you’re right. If you think I decided to take up llama farming in South Dakota then you’re wrong.”

She refused to grin at the joke. Seducing random boys was par for the course with him now that he was feeling better. But, unless he was still upset with her for letting him drop then they should have been together for whatever adventure he’d experienced. They were generally partners in crime and she felt terrible that he’d done something major without her. It almost felt like a punishment for having abandoned him when he needed her and, while it stung, she accepted it and refused to be angry.

“Look, Julia isn’t the kind of person to get over this sort of thing. She’s going to figure out it was you and go to the dean, alright?” she said. “I can run her around for a while and you can put everything back. No harm done.”

“Oh, I’m hardly worried about Henry,” Eliot said dismissively. “Besides, I can’t put anything back. I burned all of it.”

Her stomach felt sick and she almost wanted to shake him. That was just Eliot, though, volatile, passionate, and troublesome and…  and she was exceptionally mad she hadn’t been invited. The stupid first year could be dealt with but, honestly, it was beyond unfair for Eliot to further endanger his academic career without her even being there to enjoy it! They were supposed to be friends. Surely he wasn’t still that angry with her for abandoning him to drop. She’d tried so hard to take care of him afterwards. Maybe she deserved him being a little cold but she hadn’t been malicious or cruel, it was totally an accident. It was impossible truly delude herself, she’d been a bad dom and it was fair that Eliot didn’t want her involved in his games, at least for a little while.

“You can’t burn people’s shit because you’re mad, Eliot.” She almost believed that was true, if only because of the situation it put her in. “You especially shouldn’t have burned Julia’s things. Do you know how badly you screwed yourself?”

“He did what?”

Oh no. Oh no. Oh shit, shit, shit fuck. Margo took a careful breath before turning around to face Julia. She felt sorry-ish for the girl. Julia’s face was red and tear streaked, her eyes glassy and her lip quivering. Eliot must’ve had a reason and fuck him for not involving her but she was still left to pick up the pieces. “We’ll fix it, Julia,” Margo said despite having no idea how to fix it. “I’ll fix it.  We’ll go shopping. There’s actually a really great place in the city. On me. We’ll spend the day and—“

“Half of that stuff he burned can’t be replaced,” Julia said, her voice shaking. She didn’t even seem angry, just upset, like she was on the verge of breaking down completely.  “There were—there were ribbons from competitions. There were—there was a blanket my grandmother made. And he just destroyed them.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” Eliot said with a not entirely uncharacteristic coldness. “Payback can be a real bitch. It’s over now.”

Julia stared at Eliot and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “It’s over? You really think…what is this? Payback? Because I embarrassed you a little bit? You took it too far, Eliot!”

Margo officially had no idea what was going on but was getting increasingly pissed about that fact.  “Wait, Eliot, what’s she talking about? Payback for what?”

Julia made a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “What? He didn’t tell you?” she managed, still upset. “Guess that explains why you didn’t come after me. I gave him a backrub at his little party and he went into full blown panic.”

“You tried to Dom me in public.” Eliot’s voice was very tense.

Julia took a step closer. “Please, if I wanted to Dom you then you would have been on the floor begging for Mistress to forgive you. I just barely touched you and, you know what?  I was right. You do need a Dom to take you in hand. You didn’t just need it, you wanted it. If you were so worried about staying out of Panic you would have taken your pills.”

Margo’s head was a mess, listening to the two of them bicker like children. Normally she might have stepped in before but something had slowly become upsettingly obvious. Eliot had never been in Subdrop. He’d lied to her. She’d been sick, unable to sleep, fretting over whether or not she should keep being his makeshift dom all over a lie. He’d lied to her and passed Panic off as Subdrop. He’d been so arrogant that he hadn’t told her that someone had hurt him, had let her suffer instead.

The slap echoed in the hallway and silenced both of them. Eliot seemed more startled than anything while Julia looked concerned that she might be next. Margo hadn’t even realized she was going to hit him until it was done.

“Okay, first of all, _ow_ ,” he said, tone light and conversational but expression decidedly wounded.

“Don’t talk,” she said and grabbed him by the arm, nails digging into his skin. “Julia, we need just a moment. Eliot, kitchen, _now_.”

Without waiting for a response from either of them she dragged Eliot, unprotesting, into the relative privacy of the kitchen. The second they were alone she let him go and pushed him back by the shoulders hard enough that he almost hit the wall.

“Eliot, what the hell?” she demanded.

“Fair enough. Look, you’re obviously pissed at me. Are you hungry? You get like this when you’re hungry. I’ll make you something to eat and we can talk about this calmly,” he said, far more relaxed than he had any right or reason to be.

“No, we can’t,” she said, very sharply. He winced, apparently finally grasping the gravity of the situation. She wanted to scream at him, to explain why she was so angry but she didn’t. “You fucked up. I can’t fix it either, all I can do is clean up your mess. Again.”

“If you want me to apologize I won’t. You tried to help, Julia refused, it’s over.”

Margo couldn’t believe him. He really did think that she could just solve everything and it would all go back to normal. She wanted to hit him again, harder, and several times.

“I would ask you what you were thinking but I feel like you would just lie to me about it. You know I’m furious, right?”

“I gathered that, yes.”

“Yes what?”

Eliot looked down at her, eyes wide. If he didn’t know he was in trouble before he did now. For a moment he seemed to mentally weigh his options before looking past Margo, making sure no one was listening. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said in hardly more than a whisper.

Good, Margo thought as she crossed her arms over her chest. It seemed that he was finally starting to actually process what was happening. But neither one of them was going to like what happened next. “You know I have to punish you, right?”

“For what?” It wasn’t defiant or sarcastic. He was genuinely pleading and pathetic, almost so much so that she wanted to just pet his hair and watch John Hughes movies. But not quite that much.

“Are you joking or stupid? For burning someone’s shit and lying to me about putting you in Subdrop! That was awful, you were awful!”  She stared him down, glad when he dropped his head.

“Yeah, that’s fair. I mean, uh, yes Ma’am.” It was something at least, progress.

“Good.” She grabbed his arm again, less than gently, and hauled him back into the hallway where Julia was waiting.

“Nice talk?” Julia asked, recovered enough to be sarcastic. “You _are_ going to punish him, right?”

Was she ever. “Oh definitely,” Margo promised. “I’ll take care of that immediately.”

“I don’t believe you,” Julia said. “I need to see you punish him.”

“I can’t do that. He doesn’t like people to see him—“

“Either I watch or I go to Dean Fogg right now and tell him all about Eliot’s little arson adventures. Do you want him kicked out or do you want to do it my way? Your choice.”

It wasn’t that Margo wanted to punish him in front of anyone. She knew he was going to hate it anyway and he was going to hate it twice as much if someone else was there. But she was angry and he’d done it to himself. Playing along with Julia would have never been her idea but it did present a chance for a decidedly memorable event.

“Fine,” she said, feeling stubbornly righteous.

“What!?” Several emotions flashed across Eliot’s face. There was a spark of anger before betrayal and hurt. “No, you can’t do that!”

It had been months since the last time Eliot had to be punished for anything. Margo usually didn’t like to do it unless there was no alternative. It wasn’t that he was well behaved, but that she had to remind herself that she wasn’t really his Dom. She had to distance herself from that or else she would enjoy it too much. He deserved it, though, so much that she couldn’t help but want to really thoroughly beat the hell out of him.

“Oh?” she said simply, staring him down. “I can’t?”

His shoulders dropped. It broke Margo’s heart to stand there and see him try to pretend to be brave. Or, it did until she remembered that he had lied to her and made her believe that she had hurt him. Then the anger came back.

“Margo—“

“You can address me properly and wait upstairs in my room, Eliot. Now.”

Margo held her breath as Eliot just stood there for a moment, defiance and indignant anger dancing across his marvellously expressive face before settling as acceptance.  He pursed his lips and the fight went out of him entirely. “I see. May I wait in the commons instead?” His voice was tense, concerned.

Margo let out a sigh. She understood why he didn’t want to go upstairs and wait. He didn’t want to be alone. He never wanted to be alone.  Even when he was feeling fine Eliot liked having someone with him. Isolation was the worst punishment for him. So, Margo relented and nodded. “Go. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Eliot looked like he was going to say something, but instead he just stalked off, blowing through the doors.

Margo ran her hands back through her hair and let out an annoyed groan. She would much rather have been sitting with Eliot, drinking wine and judging people. Instead she was going to have to punish him which would be unpleasant. He was going to get mad and stomp his foot and hate her until he was cuddled up in aftercare being told how pretty and perfect he was. At least they both had the aftercare to look forward to.  First, she had to talk to Julia.

Putting on her sternest expression, Margo squared her shoulders, tilted up her chin, and stared the girl down. She wasn’t going to let Julia see how much this bothered her. She wasn’t letting Julia win. “We need to go over some ground rules,” Margo said and crossed her arms.

Julia stood from where she’d been leaning against the wall. She still looked like she was ready to break down crying again. Margo had expected her to look satisfied. She was getting someone punished, that would have been enough for Margo to be happy. But Julia still looked like she was going to sob. “Fine,” she said, her voice weak.

“Right. Right, first of all I’m in charge. That means that if you’re going to be there then you’re going to stand back and not speak. If I tell you to leave then I need you to leave. This is…it’s delicate.” Punishing Eliot was never easy and Margo had never had to punish him in front of someone else before. She had no idea what to expect. Margo stood there and waited for Julia to argue.

Oddly, the girl just nodded.  “Go on.”

Margo blinked and cleared her throat. She had prepared a whole argument that included a little yelling and she didn’t even get to use it.  She’d wanted to yell. “Secondly, I choose the punishment.”

“You’ll go easy on him.”

“Six with the cane. It won’t be easy and it won’t be fun. I think it’s pretty fair given the circumstances.”

Julia thought for a moment before giving a stiff nod. “I think that should suffice.”

“And once I give him those six stripes he’s done. You’re done. You leave and we never speak of it again and you don’t tell anyone about what happened. Do you understand?”

“I know. Once a Sub is punished they’re forgiven and it’s over. I know how these things work. I’ll treat Eliot like I would treat any other Sub.”

Something about Julia’s words made Margo’s stomach twist. She was supposed to be the only person who referred to Eliot as a Sub and she only did so when no one else could hear them and she was helping him calm down. Julia wasn’t supposed to say that. It made Margo’s fingers twitch in frustration but she managed to keep herself calm. She just needed to get through this. If she could get through the next few minutes then everything would be okay and everyone could go back to normal. She and Eliot could be best friends again and they could hate Julia together. She just had to do this. “Let’s go.”

**Eliot**

“So…Margo is going to punish you now?”

                Eliot sat stoic on the sofa. The joy from sitting outside with Penny had faded and now he was full of regret and fear. He would have rather been filled with cock and whisky, but it didn’t look like that was happening anytime soon. He didn’t even look at Quentin. Instead he sat with his hands folded in his lap and stared blankly at the wall, wishing for a drink. “It looks that way.” His cheek burned where Margo had hit him and he was starting to regret everything he’d done.

                Quentin was on the opposite end of the sofa, his knees against his chest and his arms wrapped around them. “I think I might be pissed at you,” he said, “because you hurt Julia. She was going to apologise you know.”

                If that was supposed to make him feel better it didn’t have the desired effect. He shouldn’t have felt guilty about getting back at Julia. Penny was right, wasn’t he? Eliot needed to prove that he wasn’t just a snivelling Sub who could be fucked with. “She didn’t,” he calmly told Quentin, keeping his face masked.

                “Well, she couldn’t find you. We were trying to but you were…I don’t know where you were. Burning Julia’s things, I guess?”

                Eliot shrugged and drew a breath. It was becoming difficult to keep his mask on. All he wanted was get everything over with and get drunk. “Yes, I had a lovely date with Penny. It was delightful. Now things are decidedly less delightful.”

                Quentin was silent for a long, awkward moment. He made sounds that might’ve been the beginnings of words but he didn’t seem to be able to properly articulate his thoughts into full on sentences. “Penny?” he finally spat out.

                “Did I mispronounce his name somehow?”

                “No, it’s just…it’s Penny.  He’s…he’s the worst. If the essence of terrible were to morph into human it would take the form of Penny.”

                That certainly didn’t seem true to Eliot. If anything Penny seemed to be one of the nicest Doms he had ever met. Eliot thought that Penny would never punish him for something like this. Penny would  probably find a better way to make sure Julia didn’t tell Henry what happened and they were all be happy. “I like him.”

                “Yeah, I’m definitely pissed at you,” Quentin said. “But, I guess I shouldn’t be? I mean, if you get punished then it’s done, right? You feel better, like, less guilty and everything and Julia’s happy and we can all be friends, right? So, even though I’m pissed at you I’m not. Does that make sense? I should be madder, but I can’t be mad if you get punished and forgiven. If Julia forgives you then I do too.”

                Quentin was optimistic about this and that warmed Eliot a bit. Unfortunately, Eliot didn’t see himself ever being friends with Julia. Too much had happened.  But, he would let Quentin believe. “Yes, I think that’s how it works. Thank you…for not hating me.”

                When Eliot thought about it he could make sense of it. If anyone had hurt Margo he would be up in arms.  They wouldn’t leave unscathed and Eliot would make sure they knew what they had done. He wouldn’t be quite as forgiving and it was just another beautiful thing about Quentin.  He was kind, loyal, gentle, and sweet. Eliot wondered if Quentin would ever see that part of himself.

                “Do you think it’ll be bad? The punishment, I mean,” Quentin said, resting his head on his knees. “I know that Julia is upset.”

                It probably wouldn’t last long. Or, at least, Eliot hoped it wouldn’t. With any luck they could get through it, get to the aftercare, and then, he could tell Margo all about his fantastic evening with Penny. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

                “Eliot.”

                The sound of Margo’s voice got Eliot’s attention and he looked up. This was it. As he stood up he felt like a man on his way to the gallows. He chanced a glance at Quentin and quickly looked away. He couldn’t stand the pity on Quentin’s face as he made his way over to Margo. It made him feel weaker than he already felt. A lump formed in his throat and he realized he couldn’t even look at Margo. Maybe he did deserve this. He had royally fucked up and maybe this would help.

                “Come on, baby.” Margo took Eliot by the hand and led him upstairs as though he might get lost. Eliot suspected it was more because she was afraid he would take off running. Her grip was gentle but still firm. She pulled him into the bedroom and shut the door. “Julia, you may sit on the bed. Eliot, you know why we’re here, right?”

                God, he hated this part. There was always a tedious Q and A before a punishment and it always succeeded in making him feel very small. “Yes.” He paused and waited for Margo to ask the next question. When she was silent he realised exactly what she wanted and it nearly made bile rise in his throat. Squeezing his eyes shut Eliot let go whatever was left of his pride. Julia was there, she was going to see him punished, he had nothing left to hold on to. “Yes, Ma’am.”

                Margo nodded and pet his hair in a futile attempt to relax him. “Why are we here?”

                Everyone in the room knew why they were there, but Margo’s expression told him it was best not to argue. A part of him wanted to lean into Margo’s touch and have her pet him until he was forgiven, but he knew that couldn’t happen.  “Because I burned Julia’s things. And also lied to you.”

                “We’ll deal with that second part later. Let’s focus on burning things. You know why that was wrong, right?”

                He took a moment to work out the answer that Margo wanted. “I could have been kicked out?”

                “You could have. Why else?”

                Now they were onto the part where they were supposed to appease Julia. Eliot didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes focused on the wall, unblinking. The sooner he said the right thing the sooner it would be over with. It was just pretend, he told himself, pretending that he cared about Julia’s feelings.  “Because it’s wrong to destroy other people’s property,” he said in a monotone.

                Margo gave a stiff nod and took a breath. She was in full Dom mode now. Her shoulders were back, her eyes were cold, and her voice seemed void of emotion. “Good. Now, bend over the desk.”

                If Julia hadn’t been there Eliot was certain he would have resorted to begging. He didn’t want the pain or the humiliation of being punished. He wanted for Margo to think the whole situation was amusing and to forget about it. He never got what he wanted. Drawing in courage, Eliot bent over the desk, essentially folding himself in half. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been in this position before. There had been a time when this situation was very familiar to Eliot.

                He could hear Margo moving behind him and braced himself. She lightly laid the cane against the bottom of his round ass, lining it up. “Deep breath,” Margo told him. “You don’t have to count.”

                “He should have to count,” Julia interjected.

                Margo turned, raising her brow and looking Julia over.  “If you care so much you can count.”

                “What?”

                “I think I’m perfectly capable of counting on my own. Any more interruptions and I _will_ kick you out. Count if you want to.”

                That was all the warning Eliot got before the cane made harsh contact with his sensitive skin. His pants protected him a little bit, but not a lot. The sound was muffled and for a moment he didn’t feel the pain. Then it came, burning up his backside and stinging in the most unpleasant way possible. It wasn’t like the crop. It didn’t fade and leave a delightful warmth behind. It was harsh and solid and just hurt. It was a dull throbbing, the kind that was going to leave bruises that would remind him of this for the next several days.

                Eliot gasped as the cane came down again just a few centimetres above the first stripe. Screwing his eyes shut he tried not to let himself cry. He could handle this. It wasn’t like this was the worst punishment he had ever gotten, but it still hurt. When the third stroke came down Eliot had to bite down on his lower lip, a small whimper escaping him. His ass was aching and he was on the verge of sobbing. They were only halfway done and he wasn’t sure he could make it without humiliating himself further.

                “You’re going easy on him,” Julia said with a huff. “At least make the second half count. He’s not even crying yet.”

                Margo paused for just a moment, giving Eliot a chance to pull himself together. Taking several deep breaths he blinked back the tears gathering in his eyes. “You don’t get to speak. We haven’t even talked about how you hurt _my Sub_. So, you can either let me do this or you can join him over the desk.”

                Everything was quiet, apparently Julia got Margo’s message clearly.

                “Smart girl,” Margo said, sarcasm thick on her tongue. “Now, let’s get this over with.”

Margo was still on his side! If he hadn’t been humiliated and in pain he might have actually smiled over that. It didn’t even bother him that Margo had called him her Sub. It would all be over soon and he and Margo could laugh about the stupid first year and how dramatic she was being. They could lie in bed and talk about Penny and she could coo and pet him until he fell asleep. Everything was going to be fine because he still had Margo. He took a moment to calm himself down and try to get his bearings back. ‘You can’t cry in front of Julia,’ he told himself, ‘you can’t let her win.’

                Julia was going to win. The forth strike came down and Eliot couldn’t help but whine, pressing his head against the hard, cool desk. His chest burned with unshed tears and his hands were shaking. Margo wasn’t holding back. He had been hoping that she would hit him lightly, just enough to appease Julia. But that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t going easy on him at all. He wanted to ask her to stop but wouldn’t let himself beg in front of Julia. ‘Two more.  Just block out the pain or two more hits,’ he reminded himself.

                The next stripe brought a sob from him and he felt all his pride wither and die in that moment. He was nothing more than the snivelling Sub Julia wanted him to be and he hated everything. He had to stop himself from pulling away.

By the final strike his face was red and he couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down his cheeks. He hid his face against the desk, trying to hide his shame. Everything just hurt and all he wanted now was to be in bed, maybe with some cocoa, and cry until he fell asleep. He needed Margo holding him and telling him how good he was.

                The cane fell to the floor with a clatter “We’re done,” Margo said. “He was punished, it’s over.”

                “I want him to say he’s sorry.”

                “No,” Margo snapped back.

                “He was punished,” Julia said, “that doesn’t mean he’s sorry. I want an apology. I’m not asking for a lot.”

                Margo drew in a deep breath and kept a hand on Eliot’s back. Her nails dug lightly into his skin and Eliot decided not to say anything that would put her more on edge. “Eliot,” she said, her tone dangerously even, “apologise to Julia. Later, she might have to apologise to you.”

                Eliot chanced a glance at Margo only to be met with a stern gaze.  Wasn’t it humiliating enough to have to be caned in front of Julia? Now he had to apologise to her? It wasn’t fair. He looked back to the desk, taking a deep breath to stabilise his voice. It would only be worse if Julia heard his voice shaking and cracking around an apology he didn’t mean. “I…apologise,” he said, over emphasizing his words to keep the quiver away.

                “That wasn’t very good, but it’s probably the best you can do,” Julia said. “You’re forgiven now. Thank you, Margo.”

                It didn’t matter if he was forgiven by Julia or not. Or, at least, it shouldn’t have mattered. There was no reason for him to feel better on hearing those words. So, why did he? Why did it feel like a weight was lifted off his chest when he was forgiven? It was stupid. It was stupid and he hated it. He stared down at the desk, sore, miserable and ready to be in bed and be cuddled until everything was better.

                “Julia, let’s go have a chat outside,” Margo said. “Eliot, you stay right where you’re at.”

                Eliot waited there and listened. He didn’t want to move until he was sure he was alone. When he heard the click of the door closing he relaxed and laid his head down on the table. It was over. He had taken the punishment without a fuss and now he was going to get more cuddles and adoration than anyone could possibly need. All he had to do was stand there and wait for Margo to come pull him up and take him to the bed and play with his hair and give him water until he calmed down enough that she could go to the kitchen and make cocoa.

                Sniffling, Eliot hoped that Margo would be back soon. Why had she left him alone? He knew she needed to talk to Julia, but he thought she should know better than to leave him by himself.  There was nothing he hated more than being alone, especially when he was sore and needed to be held. But it would be okay. Margo would be back soon and he could cry all he wanted to and get lotion and everything would be fine.

                “You may stand up,” Margo said as she walked back inside. “I think we have a few things to discuss.”

                She wasn’t touching him. Normally this was the part where Margo wrapped her arms around him and told him how good he was and how well he had done. So, why wasn’t that happening? “We can talk about that later,” Eliot said, moving away from the desk. He didn’t want to talk. Talking was boring and it certainly wasn’t cuddling.

                A yelp escaped Eliot’s lips and he jolted forward when Margo’s hand slapped across the bottom of his ass, landing on one of the welts from the cane. “I don’t think I left any room for argument. Now, I want you to listen and I would suggest you listen very carefully. I want you out of those clothes, then I want you to put your hands on the desk, and I don’t want to be kept waiting. Understand?”

                He didn’t. Eliot didn’t understand at all. Standing there he stared blankly at Margo, trying to figure out why they weren’t in the bed and why they weren’t cuddling. “You already punished me,” he pointed out.

                Margo laughed. Not a real laugh like she found the situation funny. It wasn’t even a dry, sarcastic laugh. It felt like she was laughing at Eliot. “No, no, no, sweetie. I punished you for Julia. Now, it’s time to punish you for Margo.”

                “For what,” he blurted out. “Because I lied to you?” They had already been through this with the cane. In what world was that not enough?

                “No, not just because you lied to me,” she said, taking a step toward him. “Because you blamed me. Because I spent days worried sick over you, taking care of you. I couldn’t stop to take care of myself because I was taking care of _you_. Every time you fell asleep I had to go and throw up because I thought it was my fault you were like that. And you could have told me. At any point you could have told me and I would have hurt Julia so bad she didn’t know up from down.”

                Eliot shook his head. “I didn’t want you to hurt her,” he admitted. As much as he didn’t like Julia he could understand her. He understood that she was trying to get revenge for something she didn’t need revenge for. In her head she was the hero and he had screwed up by burning her things. There was nothing to be had in revenge.

                Sarcastically, Margo applauded him. “Good job. Ten points to Eliot. You saved Julia’s ass. And, look at that, it got your ass in trouble. You made me feel like a bad Dom to save her. Well, congratulations, baby. You wanted a bad Dom, now you’ve got one.”

                Eliot felt his stomach twist.  He felt like he had been punished enough for the day. “I don’t want a bad Dom,” he whispered, looking down.

                “You really should have thought about that before you made the mistake of pissing me off. Now, I couldn’t help but notice that you’re still wearing clothes. You know you’ve made things infinitely worse by not doing as you’re told?” She leaned close, whispering to Eliot, “I would start being good if I were you.”

Squeezing his eyes shut Eliot let his head drop. “I’m sorry.”

                Margo smiled and ran her hand along Eliot’s jaw. “Aw, baby, no you’re not. But you will be by the time I’m done. I’ll know when you’re really sorry. Now, strip before I get really angry.”

                With shaking hands Eliot undid the buttons on his shirt and folded it, setting it down on the bed with his vest and tie. Reaching down to unbutton his trousers Eliot looked up to Margo, hoping for a last minute reprieve. He was met with an icy stare he had never seen before with Margo. The only time he had ever seen a look like that was with his old Doms. It was an expression that meant he was going to be hurt and badly. It said ‘Don’t argue and maybe you’ll walk when I’m done’. Eliot hadn’t even thought that Margo was capable of that look.

                Undressed, Eliot walked over and put his hands on the desk, trying not to shake too badly. When she had been punishing him for Julia he had thought he was scared. Now, the beating in his heart and his dry throat told him that what he had experienced before was mild. This was what fear was like. It was almost more powerful than the overwhelming guilt that curled up inside his stomach and threatened to make him throw up again. The only reason Margo was acting like this was because she was hurt and he was the cause of that hurt. He had made her worried, he had blamed her for something that wasn’t her fault. Whatever he got he was certain he would deserve it.

                “There, now was that so hard?” Margo said, pacing behind him.

                Eliot had expected, or hoped, that she would tell him he was good for doing as she asked. He craved any amount of praise she could give him. But he wasn’t getting praised or loved or cuddled. He was getting punished and it was completely his fault.

                “Now then, I wonder what’s going to hurt most over those welts. I’m thinking we can start with the strap. What about you, Eliot? What do you think?”

                “Lotion,” Eliot ventured, hoping to calm her down a little bit. He knew by now that there was no way he was getting out of this, so he thought maybe he could at least make her smile.

                Margo did smile, but it wasn’t a nice one.  “Oh, lotion? Make your ass a bit more tender? Or, we could go with Icy Hot. Get the blood flowing, get a nice little sting going, really get it burning. Is that what you’re wanting, Eliot? To make things worse than they already are?”

                Eliot shook his head and looked back to the desk. Apparently now wasn’t the time for fucking around. He should have known that. “No. No, Margo, that’s not—ow!”

                Margo’s hand came down again over the welts, catching him off guard. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. What the _fuck_ did you just call me?”

                Instantly, Eliot realised his mistake. Squeezing his eyes shut Eliot tried to calm himself down. “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” he said, his voice failing and cracking.

                “That’s better. You’re starting to learn something, aren’t you? Now, let’s hope you can remember these few rules while we teach the real lesson.” Margo stepped away and Eliot heard her digging through her chest. “I’m thinking we’ll start with the strap and see how much you learn from that. Then we’ll see what else you need to really make the lesson sink in.”

                Margo walked behind him, not touching him. “Eliot, if you move away from the desk then I’ll be very cranky. You don’t want to make me cranky, do you?”

                “No, Ma’am.”

                “Smart answer.”

                It wasn’t exactly praise but Eliot still soaked it up, desperate for any amount of affection. He needed it to be able to get through this and he would take whatever he could get. “Thank you, Ma’am,” he said, unsure of when tears started pooling in his eyes. Did it happen when he leaned over the desk or when Margo told him he had a smart answer? He couldn’t be certain. Everything was feeling blurry and vague.

                “Let’s begin, shall we?”

                That was all Margo said before she brought the strap down hard on Eliot’s already sore and tender ass. Eliot jumped and curled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms as though the pain would distract him. It didn’t. The strap came down again and again and Eliot was thankful that he didn’t have to count. It had just started and already he didn’t know how many times Margo had hit him. All he knew was that the strap was catching on the welts and was more painful than he thought possible. His ass was burning and stinging like he had just sat on hot coals. Every smack brought on a fresh pain and made his arms weaker. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep himself upright. It wasn’t like the cane. The cane was heavy and dull and at least he had his trousers on to protect him. The strap stung against his exposed flesh like it was ripping away layers of his skin.

                Margo didn’t stop, not even when Eliot found himself crying into the desk. The apologies falling out of his mouth amidst the sobs went completely ignored. At this point he wasn’t even sure he was speaking. Margo’s attention was focused entirely on hitting every square inch if his bottom with the strap. Eliot’s arms were shaking and a particularly hard smack caused him to nearly collapse. The strap hit a welt from the strap that was over a welt from the cane and Eliot’s knees buckled. Keeping his arms on the desk he let himself kneel down, breathing heavily, tears streaming down his face and onto his collarbone.

                “Margo, please,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-I-I didn’t mean to make you—I’m sorry, Margo.”

“Margo,” she repeated. “You know, I almost thought you had learned something but it turns out we’re right back where we started.”

                She reached down and grabbed his wrist, bringing his hand up closer to her. The strap hit hard against his palm and Eliot instantly jerked back, holding his injured hand close to his chest. It stung more than he expected and brought fresh tears of pain to his eyes.

                “Ma’am! Ma’am,” he corrected, choking on his own words. All he wanted to do was curl up, away from Margo. He couldn’t stand the look in her eyes, the lack of empathy or sympathy for him. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. Please.” As much as he hated begging he hated the pain more. It was starting to feel like he couldn’t breathe and even the air was starting to hurt his skin.

                Reaching out Margo carded her fingers through Eliot’s hair. “I really think we’re starting to get somewhere. But I don’t think we’re anywhere near done yet, Eliot. Stand back up.”

                Kneeling on the ground Eliot shook his head. Margo grabbed his other wrist, landing the strap down on his palm. Eliot jerked his other hand back and whimpered, putting his hands under his arms to try and drive away the sting.  It didn’t really help at all. He put his head down and wept into his leg. “I-I don’t think I can sta-stand up,” he managed to choke out.

                “Aw, poor baby,” Margo said and knelt beside him. “You’re really starting to learn your lesson, aren’t you?”

                Eliot nodded frantically. “I-I did. I didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you think—I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to—want you to feel bad. It was my fault,”

                “It was. It was your fault and now you’re being punished for it. And you deserve it, Eliot. Now, if you can’t stand up then I think we can find another way. Let’s go to the bed.”

                This was it. This was the aftercare he so desperately craved. Finally he was going to get to just cuddle up with Margo and get told that he had taken his punishment like a good boy. So, he let Margo help him up and leaned heavily on her to get to the bed. He had expected Margo to lay him down on the bed gently and get the lotion. Instead she awkwardly pulled him over her lap with one hand on his back, his knees bent uncomfortably due to the height difference. She wasn’t rubbing soothing circles over his back; she just kept it there, holding him still.

                It became clear that he wasn’t getting aftercare. Not then and he was starting to feel like he wasn’t ever going to get it. Eliot twisted back, putting one hand over his ass. “Please, I’m sorry. I-I am. I didn’t—please don’t do this.”

                Margo took his wrist and just pinned his arm to his back. “No more begging,” she told him and reached back. “Take ten without arguing and then we’ll see if we’re done.”

                Eliot tried to hold his breath but another sob came out and all he could do was lay there and hold onto Margo’s ankle. The first two hits were quick and Eliot felt himself break completely. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying, just whatever he thought Margo wanted to hear spilled out of his mouth in tangled, broken prose. The hits were hard and solid, like the cane but covering more of his ass and coming down hard against the welts. It felt like fire was being pushed into his skin with every dull smack.

                It felt like forever before Margo put the paddle down and rubbed her hand across Eliot’s back. Eliot winced and tried to pull away from the touch but didn’t have anywhere to go. He didn’t want Margo’s hands on him anymore. He wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere safe, anywhere where he wouldn’t be hurt.

                “Alright, can you be a good boy and wait right here?” Margo said, her voice going soft. When Eliot nodded she moved him off her lap and put him down on the bed. “Good. Wait right here for me, I’ll get some water.” She put a hand in his hair, saying something in such a soft voice that he couldn’t quite process it.

                Eliot couldn’t believe that Margo was leaving him. He was hurt, sore, and wasn’t sure what to do.  If Margo was going to be nice again then he wanted to apologise to her and have her forgive him. If she wasn’t…then he needed to get away. Eliot wasn’t sure how much more punishment he could take. So, he wasn’t going to take anymore. He wasn’t sure where he was going but he knew he couldn’t be around Margo. He entertained the idea that this could make things worse, but that was something to deal with later. Wincing, he pulled out a pair of loose fitting trousers. Even just the fabric against his ass was almost more than he could take. Grabbing a sweater he hurried out of the room, trying to figure out where he could go.

                Quentin? No, Julia would be with Quentin probably. He couldn’t let Julia see him like this, even if he needed comfort from Quentin. He needed to be somewhere safe, somewhere that he could be protected. Quentin was safe, but Quentin couldn’t protect him. Not from Margo and not from Julia. As quietly as he could Eliot headed down the stairs and slipped out the door. As far as he knew no one noticed him. Which was good. Now he just needed to figure out where he was going. He was walking but not thinking clearly. It felt like even if his brain was broken his body still knew where it was headed. A part of him wanted to stop. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and he felt like he could just curl up on the grass and let the rain wash away the tears. But he kept going. For some reason he kept pushing on through the cold, not even bothering to put up a protective shield. The cool rain felt good on his cold body. It felt like it was taking some of the tension away from him.

                Eliot walked towards the dim red and yellow lights. He wasn’t sure how far this cottage was from his, but the walk felt shorter than usual. Maybe it was because when you didn’t know where you were going the trip didn’t take as long. Shivering, he headed inside and felt the warmth of the fires wash over him. The whole place smelled of lavender and white sage, making Eliot’s nose crinkle. He was starting to think he shouldn’t be there, but there was nowhere left to go.

                It took three doors and getting yelled at by about five people before Eliot opened the right door. The room was dark and he blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust. As soon as they did the light flipped on and Penny sat straight up, covered only by a sheet. He stared at the door, brows furrowed as he stared Eliot down, trying to work out what to say.

                “Priss? What the fuck? Get out of here!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry about that. And sorry to Margo and to you. I promise, everything gets better from here.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is definitely a lot more fluffy than the last. I'm sorry it took so long to update, my beta-reader and I have both been unwell and dealing with hard drive crashes and the like. Hopefully, the wait was worth it.

 

**Kady**

Penny reacted before she could as the door opened and light spilled over their tangled bodies but only to swear and defensively pull the comforter over them both. It took her a moment before the silhouette in the doorway coalesced into something meaningful. There was a gawky submissive boy trembling at the threshold, staring at them like a spooked animal. No, not at her. He was just staring at Penny, she didn’t figure into his world even a bit in that moment which was almost funny. Penny was great, sure, if you wanted a good lay who’d help you out with minor larceny. Otherwise he was an emotionally constipated punk with a chip on his shoulder that would have given Atlas a backache. Certainly he wasn’t the person any sub in their right mind would have run to and certainly he wasn’t going to be any help to the kid in the doorway.

“Hey, you aright?” she asked, pulling the sheet over her chest as she sat up.

The sub hesitated, looking at Penny before looking at her. He didn’t quite seem to know where he was or what he was doing there. There was a glazed over look in her eyes that Kady recognised.  He wasn’t alright. In fact, he wasn’t even in the same zip code as alright.

“You wanna tell me why the fuck you think it’s okay to just come into someone’s room?” Penny demanded.

For a moment the sub just stood there, looking bewildered. His wide eyes swept over the room before he looked down at the floor, opening his mouth like he was going to speak and then closing it again. He just shook his head and reached up to rub his temples. “No, I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—I wasn’t even…I didn’t think about…I should go,” he managed, sounding more pathetic with every word he stumbled over.

She hadn’t realized it until he spoke. That was Eliot. It couldn’t be, he looked nothing like himself and he was emphatically not a sub. She didn’t know him exactly but he was hard to miss unless you were making a special effort. At the Physical cottage he was the de facto bartender and, if you were a first year at the Physical cottage, even for nefarious reasons, you weren’t leaving without a drink.

“Yeah, that might be a—“

Kady grabbed Penny’s arm and shook her head, cutting him off. Whatever had happened had been bad and Penny was going to make it worse if he wasn’t careful. “Hey, sweetie, come here. Come inside and close the door,” Kady suggested, trying to make her voice as calm and reassuring as she could. Some people had soothing voices but she just sounded sarcastic.

Penny looked at her in disbelief and opened his mouth to argue but shut it when she shook head. He really was shit at being a dom which was kind of cute but currently inconvenient. Eliot obviously needed help and it would be beyond irresponsible not to do something to help him. Moving very slowly he walked in and quietly closed the door. He stood there awkwardly, his long arms hanging limply at his sides and his hands twitching like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. This was classic Panic. She had seen this in more subs than she could count but it was never even close to this bad in a switch. Oh, oh no. He’d just gotten outed too. Poor Eliot was having a very bad day.

She found her shirt at the foot of the bed and pulled it back on, this was not something to be dealt with half naked.

“Alright, honey, why don’t you come and sit down on the bed. You’re soaking wet, how’d that happen?” She still sounded like she was mocking him or talking down to him like he was a little boy.

“Why’s he gotta be on the bed? Can’t he be…I don’t know, elsewhere?” Penny’s complete inability to be a competent dom was not even remotely cute anymore. He was actively going to hurt this kid who’d, for whatever insane reason, decided that he was fit. Subs always seemed to make dumbass decisions about which doms were worth trusting.

“Penny, stop talking.” It wasn’t any way for a switch to talk to a dom and she always loved doing that. “Now, let’s get you a towel and you can tell me what happened, okay? Eliot, right?” Kady was almost certain she was getting better at talking to Eliot, she’d sounded almost sincere that time, possibly just to spite Penny being garbage at what should have been his job.

Eliot nodded and took a few sucking breaths like he was on the verge of tears. Still slow he moved toward her hesitantly, like a wounded animal, before stopping altogether and staring at his feet. “Do I—do I have to sit?”

Someone somewhere had fucked up bad that night. The poor little bunny hadn’t just had a rough patch, he’d either been outright assaulted or someone he was supposed to be able to trust had completely screwed the pooch in terms of aftercare. If Penny looked like a good option, though, she was banking on the former.

 “No, of course not. You can lie down on your stomach. Here, let me help you. There’s a good boy. Doing just what I asked. Good boy.”

The praise seemed to relax him a bit. He held onto Kady’s arm, hanging off every word she said. His eyes were locked on her, like he kept expecting her to suddenly reach out and hit him. She tried to soothe his fears by rubbing his back in gentle, easy circles.  It seemed to help some. He laid his head down and let his eyes flutter closed.

“Good boy. I’m Kady, this is Penny.”

“I know,” he said instantly. “I know Penny. Penny’s nice.”

Kady glanced over, matching dumbfounded expressions with Penny. Penny was a lot of things. He was terse, easily irritated, intense, and a damn good lay. But nice? She had once seen him slam a kid up against a tree for thinking too loudly. Nice wasn’t a word she would use to describe Penny. “Oh yeah?  Did you come here because Penny is nice?”

He nodded and turned his head, looking up at Penny. “He said that if anyone—if anyone bothered me he would punch them in the throat. But, I-I don’t want him to punch Margo. I just…I don’t know. He’s safe. Penny’s safe. He’s safe. I’m safe here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Penny said, crossing his arms over his chest.  “I meant I’d, like, I don’t know what I meant. But I didn’t mean that you could just come barging into my room anytime you felt like it!” He rolled his eyes, staring up at the ceiling and very nearly pouting.

“Penny, hush, you’re scaring him.” The sub was like a little bunny. Loud noises made him twitch like he was going to jump up and run at any given moment. “Is Margo your dom?”

The sub shook his head, tracing invisible patterns on the sheets with his finger.  “She’s my friend. I don’t have a—I don’t need a…” he drifted off as though he couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘dom’.

Kady nodded and reached up to run a hand through the boy’s soft, wet curls. “Is she the one that hurt you?”

For a moment the sub was quiet, focusing on his imaginary drawing. He worried his lower lip with his crooked front teeth as though that would help him find the answer. “I was…I was bad…” he finally said.

That was enough of an answer for Kady.  Margo had apparently set him off into Panic. Whether it was intentional or not didn’t really matter. He wasn’t going to be able to take care of himself for a few hours. At this point he was helpless. “Okay, okay, well, you’re being very good now. Do you mind if I take a look at what she did?”

Whimpering, the sub looked up and glanced at Penny. Penny was…less than helpful. He stared down at the sub and raised his brow. “Can I help you with something, Priss?”

“Can you pet my hair,” the sub asked, “to distract me?”

“No.”

Kady huffed and gave Penny a slight slap on the arm. “He’s in Panic,” she hissed through her teeth. “You have to…it’s like dealing with a child. Just pet his hair and tell him he’s good.” She needed to see how badly he was hurt. He had managed to walk over to the cottage, so at least there was that, but she wanted to make sure there wasn’t any permanent damage. 

“I know he’s in Panic,” Penny said, scooting away. “That’s kinda the problem here.”

Staring at Penny something occurred to Kady. Penny looked pissed off and, honestly, he almost had a right to be. This sub had come in without warning and Kady had let him take over Penny’s bed. But Penny wasn’t pissed off. He was scared. It was hard to see through the mask of anger but as he looked down at the sub there was a flash of fear on his face. What did he have to be afraid of? It wasn’t like the kid could actually do anything that would hurt him. Hell, he couldn’t even move without wincing in pain. There was nothing to be afraid of.

“Just, pet his hair, okay? Calm him down so I can see how bad the damage is,” Kady told him. She put a hand on Penny’s arm, looking up at him. “It’ll just take a minute.”

Penny stared down at her before huffing and rolling his eyes. “Alright, Priss,” he said and ran a hand through the sub’s hair. Instantly, the sub crawled into Penny’s lap, resting his head on Penny’s leg and cuddling up. It was like Penny’s touch sparked something in him. Penny put his hands up and looked at Kady. “He’s touching me.” Penny’s eyes were wide and he looked between the sub and Kady, trying to figure out what to do.

With a sigh, Kady realised that she was going to have to take control of the situation completely on her own. Penny was useless.  As much as the sub seemed to like Penny he needed someone that could actually help. “Just pet his hair. Tell him he’s good. Whatever you normally do with subs.”  It really wasn’t that hard. Comfort was the easiest part of this.

“He’s a switch,” Penny said as he tentatively reached down and put a hand on the sub’s head. “Hey, Eliot. Uh, you’re, uh, you’re doing great. What the fuck happened to you?” he blurted out.

That wasn’t what Kady had meant by comfort. She rolled her eyes and looked at the sub. He definitely wasn’t a switch. Not by any stretch. It was clear by this point that Penny’s experience with subs was minimal at best. It would have been nice to have had some actual help with this, but Kady had to work with what she had. “Hey, Eliot?  You’re name’s Eliot, right?”

The sub gave a small nod. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said, his voice muffled.

“Good boy. Good, good boy. Now, I’m going to take your pants off. No, shh, shh, shh,” she said as he tensed and gripped tight to Penny’s leg. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I just need to check.”

“Why do you need to check his ass?”

“Because, Penny, he’s hurt and I don’t know how bad,” she explained in a hushed whisper. “Just keep him distracted for a few minutes, okay?”

Penny sighed and absently petted Eliot’s curls. “This is stupid. It’s not like he’s, like, yours or anything. There’s no reason to care.”

She couldn’t properly explain this to Penny. This wasn’t the first time Kady had seen a sub in Panic and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. It didn’t matter if he was her sub or not, it didn’t matter if she cared about him, what mattered was that he was hurt. He was hurt and he had come to them. Well, technically he had come to Penny. Still, he was a sub that needed help and she had seen too many subs suffer alone because their doms kicked them out. She wasn’t letting it happen again.

While Eliot was pleasantly distracted with Penny’s gentle petting Kady pulled his pants down as easily as she could. She did what she could to avoid the fabric brushing against his tender skin so much. Wincing, Kady looked over the damage, trying to keep herself emotionally distant. It was a good thing Eliot’s face was buried in Penny’s leg, she didn’t want him to see her worried expression. His smooth, pale skin was interrupted with blotches of red and purple. The skin below his bottom was untouched, but right at his thighs bruises had started forming. There were welts on top of welts. Long, thin welts went up from the curve of his ass to the top in a strategic pattern. It looked like they were from a cane and whoever had wielded it had done so with precision and grace. They definitely knew what they were doing with that. Kady couldn’t tell what caused the other welts, but they were far less refined. He was damn lucky he hadn’t broken skin.

“Oh, it’s not that bad, sweetie,” Kady said, rubbing Eliot’s leg and avoiding the bruises. “You’ll be a little uncomfortable for a few days, but it’s not very bad. It’s just a little sore. Nothing to worry about.” It was best to lie to subs when they were in Panic. Lies were calming. Lies kept people relaxed. The truth could send someone spiralling. The truth made people lose trust in you.

Penny leaned over and his eyes grew wide. “Holy shit,” he all but yelled. “That’s not bad? If that’s not bad I’d hate to see what you consider bad. It looks like someone used him as a piñata. Jesus, I—What? Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Penny,” Kady said slowly, “stop talking.” He was only going to make things worse. The best thing he could do was sit there quietly and pet Eliot. “Penny’s overreacting, Eliot. It’s not bad. Just a little bruising. How about some lotion? Would you like that? It might help take the sting away. Penny, you have lotion, right? Some with aloe?” Boys in their twenties always had lotion.

“No?”

Again, Penny was useless. Kady took the blanket and pulled it over Eliot. There weren’t a lot of choices here. She couldn’t just let Eliot lay there and suffer, but the only other option was to go get her lotion. It would help to, but she would have to leave Eliot alone. Or, the equivalent of alone. It could wait a few minutes. There was no way she was leaving him with Penny when Penny himself was basically in Panic.

“I’ll get it in a bit. “ She paused and looked down at Eliot. “Sweetie, you’re tense. It’s okay, you can relax. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Eliot shook his head and mumbled something that Kady couldn’t understand. She stared at him, but he didn’t repeat himself. He just tried to cling tighter to Penny.

Penny sighed, rolled his eyes, and distractedly carded his fingers through Eliot’s hair. “He said he doesn’t want you to touch him,” he explained.

“You could actually hear him?”

“I wish that was it.” Using his free hand Penny pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s got a…leak, sorta. Not like…it’s not like his wards are down it’s like little things are trickling out of his brain.” Penny looked almost like he was embarrassed by this. “You’re…a girl.”

Scoffing, Kady raised her brow. She moved her hands away from Eliot and folded them in her lap. Usually subs in Panic needed physical reassurance. They needed to know that someone was there. Eliot didn’t seem to have a problem cuddling with Penny. “I’m glad you noticed that.”

“No. I mean, believe me, I noticed that a while ago. It’s…stupid. He’s being stupid. A girl hurt him, you’re a girl, so he doesn’t want you to touch him. It’s stupid. You’re being stupid, Priss,” he said, looking down at Eliot. “It’s Kady. Kady isn’t going to hurt you. It’s not Margo.”

                Lifting his head, Eliot shook his head. “I don’t want her,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I don’t want Margo either. Don’t tell Margo where I am.”

                Penny sighed and brushed his hand along Eliot’s jawline. “Well, no one’s getting Margo. But you need Kady. She knows what she’s doing, okay?”

                “She’s not a dom,” Eliot said and closed his eyes, leaning into Penny’s touch. “She can’t help me.”

                “She’s trying to help you. You’ve got to let her, okay?”

                “But—“

                “No,” Penny said, taking Eliot’s chin in his hand. “Hey, hey, look at me. Look at me. Good, good. Now, I’m a shit liar, so I’d tell you if Kady was going to hurt you. You’ve got to let Kady take care of you, understand?”

                Eliot bit down on his lower lip and gave a small nod. “Yes, Sir.”

                “No, don’t call me Sir. That’s a bullshit title. Just Penny, okay?”

                “Yes, Penny.” Eliot leaned forward and put his head on Penny’s shoulder, clinging to his arm and taking in shaky breaths.

                Finally, Penny was doing something right! Kady wasn’t sure what caused it, but whatever it was she was glad. Granted, Penny didn’t look comfortable as he rubbed Eliot’s back. In fact, he looked like he was either going to take off running or throw up. Hell, he might have taken off running if he didn’t have a hundred and some odd pounds of Panic on him.

                “I know you’re scared,” Penny said, his voice soft. “Don’t argue, you’re obviously fucking terrified right now. And you’ve got a good reason to be scared. But this is Kady. She’s not gonna hurt you. I won’t let her. Remember? I’ll punch anybody in the throat if they fuck with you. I’m not above hitting a girl.”

                That got a small smile out of Eliot. He leaned his head into Penny’s touches and let his eyes close slightly. “I need to…fix my wards.”

                “Yeah, ya do. They’re not down too bad, don’t worry. Not learning any big secrets here.”

                It was actually kind of cute now, Penny still sucked at what he was doing. He was stiff and his brows were furrowed, but Eliot had relaxed considerably. He was lying on Penny, shaking despite the blanket. Kady reached over and put her hand on Penny’s leg to get his attention. “I’m going to go get some lotion. Keep him calm for ten minutes, okay?”

                Penny’s eyes widened and he looked down at Eliot before staring at Kady. “No, he’s in Panic. He needs someone that knows what they’re doing.”

                Kady suspected that Penny was more capable of taking care of Eliot than he thought he was. When he stopped focusing on it he wasn’t quite so shitty. “It’s just ten minutes. And…I think he might relax a little bit if I leave. Like he said, I’m a girl.” She gave him a small smile and moved off the bed. “Ten minutes, Penny. I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.”

                “Can’t you…take him with you or something?”

                “Yeah, let me just take the pantsless, Panicking, sub across campus to the cottage where the person who hurt him currently is. That’s an A plus plan, Penny. You’ve got some fantastic ideas.”

                Leaning his head back Penny looked to the ceiling and rolled his eyes so hard Kady thought they might fall out. “If you’re more than ten minutes then I’m gonna come look for you. And you owe me for this.”

                “Oh, I think I can make it up to you,” she promised and gave him a chaste kiss.  “Ten minutes. Do whatever you have to do to keep him happy and I promise you’ll get a reward.”

                That seemed to cheer Penny up a little bit. Kady grabbed her pants off the ground, pulled them on, grabbed her shoes, and headed out. There was some kind of meeting going on in the commons. Or maybe it was a prayer circle. Things in the Psychic Cottage were weird. Kady ignored it and headed outside, surrounding herself with a Horowitz Charm to stay dry. The rain was drizzling down and the air was chilly. She couldn’t imagine Eliot coming across, no charms, no shoes, nothing to protect him from the weather.

Following the path across campus she hoped that Penny was doing okay with the sub. Hopefully, Eliot would calm down when it was just the two of them. She needed to ask Penny why Eliot trusted him so much, why he had gone there of all places. She didn’t know Eliot very well. The most she knew was what she had seen at a distance. Eliot was the center of attention all the time. Whenever he was walking the grounds he always had someone with him, talking loudly and laughing even louder as though to prove to people he was having a better time than they were. It wasn’t like he didn’t have friends. Maybe he just didn’t have friends that he could trust. Maybe he didn’t want people to see him when he wasn’t having fun. That didn’t answer the question of why he had chosen Penny.

The cottage was warm, almost stuffy. It had a very homey feel to it, like there would always be drinks, hot food, and eager company. Kady wasn’t used to a place feeling so much like a home and she had to remind herself that this wasn’t home. Nowhere was.

There were empty wine bottles and abandoned glasses littering the tables. It was hard to believe that there had been a party earlier that day. Kady had left about the time some kind of drama started unfolding. She was pretty sure that the Physical Kids couldn’t go a day without drama. If they did they might start going through DTs. She headed upstairs, down the hall, and did the spell to open the door. Everything was a test here. You had to figure out how to get in on your first day and you had to figure out how to work around not having doorknobs. Everything had to be just so extra here.

Grabbing her purse, Kady took out a book and hid it under her mattress. She couldn’t risk Eliot sneaking through her bag and finding it. She grabbed up a jar of homemade lotion and a bottle of painkillers. They probably wouldn’t be Eliot’s taste of drug, but they would have to work. He could deal with low strength Vicodin to help take the edge off the pain. Checking her watch, Kady sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She had was already running behind. God, if Penny didn’t take care of him…

As she headed out Kady paused in the corridor and watched. Anytime she saw Eliot there was always a girl with him. Normally she looked flawless, now her straight, dark hair was tangled, her makeup was smeared, and she kept pacing up and down the hallway muttering to herself. Honestly, she looked insane, and that gave Kady a small smile right.

“Margo,” Kady said, throwing her bag over her shoulder. “Are you okay?”  Her voice still had the sickly-sweet tone that she had used with Eliot. The difference was that Eliot was in Panic and needed that, Margo wasn’t.

Margo turned, her chestnut eyes narrowing. “I’m a bit busy,” she said.

“Did you lose something?” Kady said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You look a little frantic.”

The look on Margo’s face was almost amusing. She looked like she was caught between being furious and being terrified. “I’m in no mood to be fucked with,” she said, brushing her hand through her frizzy hair.

Oh, this was classic Defence and no one deserved it more than Margo did right then. If her chest hurt and her mind was racing she deserved that and Kady didn’t feel the least bit of sympathy for her. Everything happening to her, every bit of worry was because of something she had done. “I was offering to help. You look like you’re looking for something.”

Margo took a breath, trying to calm down. It was a moot effort, obviously. “Unless you know where Eliot is you’re useless. Since I have no idea who you are I’m going to assume that Eliot doesn’t either. Ergo, you can’t help. Buh bye now.” Margo turned away, starting to head back down the hallway.

Kady tapped her chin in mock concentration. “Eliot, Eliot, Eliot. Let’s see. Oh! Six foot tall, brunet, in Panic? I think I’ve seen him.”

Margo whipped around, eyes blazing. “Where?” Margo didn’t ask. Kady got the feeling that Margo didn’t ask for anything really. She demanded.

Pursing her lip Kady looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think. “Let’s see. Last time I saw him he was asking me…not to get you,” Kady said, looking back to Margo with a smile. “Don’t worry, he’s safe. He’s with a _good_ dom.” Okay, he was with Penny. Penny wasn’t a good dom. Penny wasn’t even a good person. But, he wasn’t going to beat the shit out of Eliot. Not right then, anyway.

There was a flash across Margo’s face. It was brief, but for just a second she looked wounded. “I’m a good dom,” she said, her hands shaking at her sides. “And right now I need to take care of Eliot. So, you’re going to tell me exactly where he is and I’m going to take care of him.”

“Sorry, but he asked _not_ to see you. Actually, what he said was that he didn’t want you. So, I think it’s best if you stay here and let someone responsible take care of it.”

Swallowing hard, Margo kept her eyes on Kady as though expecting her glare to scare Kady. It wasn’t going to work. Kady had met people four times as scary as Margo. Margo’s little glare did nothing.

“I’m responsible for him,” Margo said, her voice slow and even. She was obvious trying very hard to keep her Defence under control. “You have no idea—“

“Oh, I have more than an idea. I saw what you did to him. You don’t do that to a sub, _any_ sub.” Kady took a step towards Margo, in part to emphasise her point and in part to show Margo how completely unafraid she was. “You hurt him, and now you’re feeling guilty. But, the fact is that you only feel half as bad as he does. You only want to see him to make yourself feel better. And that’s not happening.” Kady smirked. “Buh bye, now.” She turned on her heel, starting down the stairs.

“You have no idea what he needs,” Margo snapped.  “He needs—“

“He doesn’t need you,” Kady called, not looking back over her shoulder. She wasn’t  giving Margo the satisfaction of getting more information. She wasn’t going to let her know how Eliot was or what they were doing. All she wanted was to leave Margo feeling worse than before, and Kady was pretty sure she had done that.

Before heading out the door Kady grabbed a pack of Oreos out of some kid’s hands. He didn’t stop her, he just stared at her as though he was unsure if it had really happened. Chocolate was good for subs in Panic. It released endorphins, and Kady was pretty sure Eliot needed to eat something anyway. She’d rather have dark chocolate, it seemed to work better. If only the boy had been holding better chocolate. Well, Oreos would have to do.

She put up her charms and headed back into the night, practically running. She was going to be late getting back. Upsetting Margo had put her behind, but it was worth it. Or, it would be worth it if Penny had done a decent job taking care of Eliot. They’d been alone for almost twenty minutes. Holding her breath, Kady hurried upstairs and cracked the door open. For a moment, she just listened. They didn’t notice her, but she noticed them. A small crossed her face and she stood there, a smile crossing her face. Penny was…singing.

 

**Penny**

God, Penny wished that Kady hadn’t just left him. He laid there, rubbing Eliot’s back, unsure what to do. “You, uh, you need anything,” he asked, looking down. For a minute he thought Eliot might’ve fallen asleep, which would make things so much easier. He could deal with a sleeping Sub. Unfortunately, Eliot’s eyelids fluttered and he looked up at Penny.

“You don’t want to do this,” Eliot mumbled, looking down. He toyed with a loose thread at the edge of the blanket, distracting himself. “I didn’t have anyone else to go to…but you shouldn’t have to deal with—deal with me. It doesn’t even hurt that bad…”

Penny had never heard anyone sound more pathetic. He felt like he should lie and say something nice and comforting but he couldn’t think of anything. “No, I hate this. I hate that I’m the only person you have to go to. I mean, shit, you need somebody who actually knows what they’re doing.” How bad was everyone else that Eliot only had him to turn to? Despite hating it, Penny  couldn’t help but want to take care of Eliot. The Dom side that he tried to ignore was practically begging for him to help Eliot somehow. Seeing a Sub in distress got his hormones all out of whack.

“I should go.” Eliot pushed himself upright, rubbing his face against the back of his arm.

“Nah, you’re not going anywhere,” Penny said and pulled Eliot back down. “Just because I don’t wanna do this doesn’t mean I’m not gonna.  I mean, I can’t let you go anywhere right now. You might jump out of the Observation Tower.”

Sniffling, Eliot smiled slightly and laid his head back on Penny’s chest. He sighed and pulled the blanket up close to him.  “I think I hate it more than you do. I’m the one who…I’m…”

“Yeah, you’re all bruised up and hurting,” Penny finished for him. He pushed his hand through Eliot’s hair. It was mostly dry now and was poofing up into a white boy fro. He looked absolutely ridiculous, like he was ninety percent hair now. “Believe me, I’m glad I’m not you. You still scared?”

Eliot hesitated. After a moment he shrugged his shoulders. “Logically, I shouldn’t be.”

There was a silent ‘but’ and Penny could fill in the rest of Eliot’s thought. He knew he shouldn’t be scared and yet he was. Eliot was shaking despite the blanket and holding tight to Penny, as though Penny was his only connection left to the world. Penny sighed and rubbed Eliot’s back. How long was Kady going to be gone? “You scared of Margo?”

There was no hesitation this time. Eliot shook his head and looked back up. “No. I just don’t want to see her right now. In case she’s still angry. She has a bit of a temper,” he explained.

“Yeah, I kinda noticed that about her. So, you’re scared but not of her? You know how much sense that doesn’t make, don’t you?” Margo was the one person he _should_ be afraid of. She was the one who’d beaten the shit out of him. She was the whole reason he was sitting there shaking and terrified. And yet he wasn’t afraid of her. Hell, Penny was a little afraid of Margo at this point.

Eliot just shrugged. “Margo did what she did because she was hurt. She’s never cruel unless she’s hurt and I hurt her. I mean, not physically, but...” He paused, blinked, and glanced around. He looked confused, as though he just realised where he was. “I-I don’t want to talk about this anymore. But, I’m not afraid of Margo.”

Maybe in Eliot’s twisted brain in made sense, but Penny didn’t get it. Margo had beaten the hell out of him, and he didn’t seem to blame her at all. “You know that nobody should ever do you like that, right? I mean, no matter what you did you shouldn’t be beat like that.” Penny didn’t know what he was supposed to do, but he thought reassuring the Sub was a pretty good start.

“It doesn’t matter,” Eliot said and pressed his ear against Penny’s chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He paused, closing his eyes again. “I can hear your heart beating.”

“Well, yeah, that’s because I’m alive.”

“It’s fast. Your heartbeat.”

That had to be because he was nervous about this. His heartrate was up because he had no idea what he was doing and Kady had left him alone with a Panicking Sub. Of course, he couldn’t say any of this. If he did he was worried it would send Eliot further into Panic and he would think he didn’t need to be there again. “Yeah, I have a fast heart. It does that.”

Eliot reached down and took Penny’s hand. Without knowing why, Penny let him. Eliot moved Penny’s hand to his chest and looked up. “Is my heart fast?”

It was and Penny jerked his hand back. “Bit. Probably ‘cause you’re scared. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Eliot lowered his hand and tensed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s fine,” Penny assured him. It wasn’t and the lie was evident in his voice. It was weird. The whole situation was weird. He definitely liked Eliot better when he was up and moving around and pretending like nothing interested him. Docile, scared Eliot was…weird.

“It’s not fine. It’s…you don’t want to be here and I don’t want to have to be here. I mean, I would rather be here under vastly different circumstances. I should—“

“You should lay back down,” Penny said, exasperated. Where the fuck was Kady? Eliot was talking so fast that Penny could barely keep up and he needed to figure out some way to calm him down. How did you calm down a Sub? Hell, how did you calm down an Eliot? “You like music?” Maybe that would help. Music had always helped Penny with his problems. Sometimes, when the world was too loud, he could put his headphones in and block a lot of it out.

 “Yes…I feel like our taste differ. I feel like you listen to bands called Satan’s Finger or The Killers or The Hospital Bombers,” he said in a small voice, eyes darting around the room like he expected something.

Penny scoffed and put his hand back in Eliot’s hair. “Yeah, well, they are the Best Ever Death Metal Band out of Denton. And don’t look at me like that. I know what you’re talking about. I got layers,” he explained a bit angrily. He all but spit the words out, his gentle touch a contrast to his voice. “And, yeah, I listen to a lot of punk shit but punk isn’t all loud and pissed off, ya know? It can be all soft and junk too.” Penny planned to play some music, get their minds off everything. Then he realised that he didn’t have his phone anywhere near him. Brakebills didn’t have the best reception (or any reception for that matter). At some point Penny had just stuck his phone in a drawer and forgotten about it.

“Play me something?” Eliot whispered.

“Well, I would but I kinda don’t have my phone. And that’s got all my music and shit on it.”

“Oh.”  Eliot was quiet for a moment.  “Can you sing?”

There had never really been a time when Penny had actually tried to sing. He didn’t sing in the shower, or hum to himself, or whistle while he worked. “No,” he said simply.

“Oh. Margo can’t sing either. She likes to sing show tunes. Badly. Into wine glasses,” he explained. “You don’t have to be able to sing to sing.”

Oh, was that what _Margo_ did?  Margo, the same person who had beaten the shit out of him? Well, that was all good and well for her, but Penny didn’t want to do _anything_ that Margo did. “It’s not something you just sing. It doesn’t really sound right without the music. You know, I like the other you better,” he blurted out.

“There’s…only one of me.”

“Yeah, but I like the you I met earlier. The weird one. The not crying one.”

“I’m not crying.”

Penny raised a brow and rolled his eyes. “Right, of course you’re not. Your face is just naturally red and blotchy. No, anyway, what I mean is that I like you better when you’re being obnoxious and pretentious. This crying Sub thing really doesn’t suit you.”

Eliot look up, searching Penny’s face for any sign that he was lying. Apparently he didn’t find a lie because his expression went from scrutinizing to confused. “Why?”

“I don’t know. You’re weird. You do weird shit. You make lighten-bugs out of fire.”

Something akin to a smile tugged at the corner of Eliot’s mouth. He reached up and wiped his face with his sleeve, sniffling. “Lightning bugs,” he corrected.

Penny just rolled his eyes and scoffed. There was a glimmer of the regular Eliot that he had met earlier. “Yeah, whatever, I call ‘em lighten-bugs.”

“Because they lighten up the sky…”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Laying back down Eliot let out a very small whimper and squirmed under the blanket, apparently trying to find a comfortable position. Penny wasn’t sure that there was one and it honestly broke his heart just a little. Just knowing the bruises were there hurt Penny and it was worse watching Eliot try to pretend like he wasn’t in pain. If Penny had gotten beat like that then he would be out for blood and he didn’t understand why Eliot had just taken it or why he was still defending Margo.

“It’s alright,” Penny muttered as his hand went back into Eliot’s puffy hair. “You don’t have to act like shit doesn’t hurt when it does. Kady’ll be back in a few minutes. She’ll fix it.” She’d better fix it anyway because Penny was pretty sure he was doing a shitty job here.

Eliot mumbled something and Penny had to ask him three times to repeat himself. “She didn’t forgive me,” he finally said coherently, staring at the wall. “I apologised. I never…she didn’t forgive me.”

How was Eliot the one who needed forgiveness?  Hell, Penny thought Eliot deserved at least a card for all the shit he’d been through that night. Did Hallmark make a card for that? “You don’t need her to forgive you after that.”

“If she doesn’t forgive me then what was the point?”

Penny didn’t know how to answer that. There wasn’t an answer in his mind because he didn’t see a point in it. “Why’d she do it in the first place? I mean, what made her decide that you needed to be beaten to hell and back?”

“I burned Julia’s things,” he whispered.

It felt like there was ice in his stomach. For a moment, Penny wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. On the plus side, he was glad that they had blamed Eliot and not him. On the other hand, he wished that he had been able to incriminate someone else for their crime. Someone he didn’t know that didn’t matter. Hell, he’d been trying to actually help Eliot. Penny quickly decided that that would be the last nice thing he ever did. “She did all that over Julia?”

“The first part.”

“There were _parts_?!”

Eliot simply shrugged as though the situation weren’t a big deal. “The first…with the, um.” He paused and drew a breath as though taking in courage. “The bit with the cane. That was for Julia. Granted, I did burn Julia’s clothes and I knew at the time that there would be repercussions. I just didn’t care. I never really do. I didn’t expect…the rest of it,” he explained.

Penny waited for Eliot to go on but it looked like it was going to take a bit of prodding. He shifted his weight and lightly scratched behind Eliot’s ear like he would with a cat. “What was the rest of it?”

“I…would prefer not to divulge that information. It’ not going to make much sense to you and it’s kind of a long story.”

It wasn’t like they didn’t have time. It looked like Kady had somehow gotten lost on her way to the cottage and Penny was starting to think she was never coming back. “Come on, it can’t be that long. People always say that things are a long story when they’re usually not.” Besides, Penny felt like he needed to know to ease some of the guilt.

After a moment Eliot gave a small nod and looked up. “I’ll tell you if you sing.”

What was this? Some kind of game? Information for a song? It was stupid. “Yeah, sure. Just tell me what happened.” There was no way in high hell he was going to sing anything. He just had to convince Eliot that he was.

“….Well?”

“Well what?”

“What’re you going to sing?”

“First tell me what happened.”

Shifting, Eliot looked up at Penny and gave a small smile.  “I know you’re thinking that you can just distract me and I’ll tell you what happened and then forget about your singing. Which, granted, would probably happen. So, sing first then you can ask all the questions you want. …I just like singing.” His voice almost broke on the last word as though he had put all his effort into keeping it together for as long as he could. Eliot lay back down, letting his eyes flutter closed and waited.

Well, shit. This wasn’t the plan at all. Penny glanced at the door just to make sure Kady wasn’t back yet before he looked back down at Eliot. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll kick your ass,” he warned. He took a breath, trying to think of lyrics off the top of his head. The only song that immediately came to mind was ‘Sad Vacation’ by Johnny Thunders. It was the type of song that Penny listened to when he wanted to feel calm instead of pissed off. “I’m…sorry I didn’t have more to say. Maybe I, uh, I could’ve changed your ways…” He wasn’t really singing, not exactly. It was more like reciting and stumbling over the words. Johnny Thunders could sing it better and that man didn’t know how to sing for shit. Penny managed to get halfway through the chorus before he awkwardly trailed off from the song. “Yeah, I don’t really…Eliot?”

The little shit was deadass asleep, still clinging to the blanket and resting on Penny’s chest. Of course he’d fallen asleep without holding up his end of the bargain. Penny considered shaking Eliot awake, but then he realised that Eliot was actually quiet and waking him up would make him quite not-quiet again. Maybe it was best to have him just sleep this off. Hell, maybe he would actually feel better in the morning and would be normal Eliot again.

“I thought it was nice. A bit flat, but with enough practise you could become a regular at Show Time at the Apollo.”

If there was any kind of loving god then they would have let Penny die right then and there. Unfortunately, it looked like atheism was winning. “It calmed him down, alright? He’s asleep now. Sleep is a good thing, right? He’s not going to choke on his own vomit or anything, is he?”

Kady rolled her eyes and dropped her bag beside the bed. “He’s in Panic, Penny, he’s not having a seizure or overdosing.”

_Overdosed and Panic aren’t mutually exclusive,_ Penny thought, but he kept his mouth shut. He looked down at Eliot, softly petting his hair and wondering how the hell someone could hurt him. Well, it was easier to imagine when Eliot was being Eliot and obnoxiously loud. But when he was asleep he looked so innocent, and somehow very small for someone so tall. He was all curled up like a kitten and just looked so harmless. The natural instinct to protect him was almost overwhelming and Penny had to work hard to push those feelings down.

“He’s okay, right,” Penny asked without thinking. God, he sounded stupidly worried and he hated it.

Pushing back the blanket Kady gave a small nod. “He’ll be a bit sore. This should help with that.” She unscrewed the lid to a mason jar and started delicately rubbing the contents over Eliot’s bruised skin.

It smelled awful. Like lavender and parsley. Penny gagged, once again thankful he wasn’t in Eliot’s position. “What the hell is that?”

“It’ll help with the swelling and bruising. Look, I know shit about this, okay? He’s not the first Sub I’ve seen get roughed up by a Dom. Why are you so worried?”

That wasn’t something he could answer easily. Or, rather, it wasn’t something he would answer honestly. There was no way in hell he was telling Kady that this stupid, little, pompous, shit bird made him feel protective. “I just think he needs somebody on his side. Doesn’t look like he’s got many people right now.”

“Why’d he come to you anyway?  I mean, hell, I’m glad he had somewhere to go…but why here?”

“Well, why are you here?”

Kady raised an eyebrow and looked up with a bemused expression.  “Because I’m fucking you. What, is he fucking you too?”

Penny was incredibly thankful that Kady couldn’t see him blushing. He felt heat rise to his face as he remembered everything that had happened earlier that day. “Yeah, he wishes.  God, that stuff you put on him stinks.”

“Yeah, well, it helps. Seriously, though. He thinks you’re _nice_.”

“I’m a fucking nice person.”

Kady just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, everyone talks about how kind and giving you are. What’d you do that made him run to you?”

There was no easy way to explain it without Penny feeling guilty. It wasn’t like he could just tell Kady that it was partly his fault that Eliot got beaten in the first place.  “Man, we just hung out today. Okay, he showed me some spells. It wasn’t a big deal. I think he’s just clingy.”

“Yeah, he seems like he might be. You did a good job with him though. You got him relaxed enough that he fell asleep. Maybe you should sing more often,” she teased, grinning.

“Uh huh, right, that’s never happening again.  None of this is happening ever again.” Penny paused and looked down at Eliot. “Jesus, what’re we going to do with him?  I mean, he can’t stay here.”

“It doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere. Sorry, I’m pretty sure he’s sleeping with us tonight. Unless you want to wake him up.”

No way in hell was Penny going to wake Eliot up. As long as he was asleep he wasn’t talking. In a way, Penny was relieved. He didn’t quite know how to explain it, but he didn’t want Eliot to leave. If he left then Penny felt like he would spend the whole time worrying about him. It didn’t make any sense at all. “Fine, he can stay.”

Kady leaned forward, stealing a chaste kiss from Penny. “Good boy.”

Penny smirked.  “You want to finish where we left off before we were interrupted?”

“You have a sleeping Sub on your chest. That’s not very conductive to fucking. Besides, we might wake him up.”

“I’m pretty sure I could move him without him noticing.” Penny tried to prove this. He carefully started shifting out from underneath Eliot when Eliot let out a low whine and held tight to Penny’s arm. “Okay…maybe not.”

Laughing, Kady slid under the blanket, sandwiching Eliot between her and Penny. “It’s alright, you can make it up to me later. I’m sure you’ll figure out something. For now, honestly, there’s something really hot about you taking care of a Sub.”

There was? Well, shit, maybe Eliot showing up was actually a good thing. “Yeah? You think so?”

“Sure, Doms can be hot.”

“I didn’t think you liked being Dommed.”

Kady shrugged. “No, but I like watching other people be Dommed.  Especially by such a sweet and _nice_ Dom,” she said, unable to hide the grin. “Get some sleep, Penny. You’re going to have a busy day tomorrow. I’ll make sure of it.”

That promise was enough to make Penny excited and the blood wasn’t exactly rushing to his face anymore. Not that there was anything he could do about it. Eliot basically had him pinned down to the bed. Tomorrow, he hoped, would be better. Maybe he wouldn’t have to deal with a Sub in Panic.

**Margo**

 

She had just wanted to get Eliot his clothes and a drink. What was she thinking? Margo knew that she shouldn’t have left alone. In all honesty, she had expected him to be okay while she was gone for less than a minute. She expected him to wait for her to get back. All she wanted was to hug him close and tell him how good he was and how well he had done. Now, she was alone and miserable.

Why hadn’t Eliot used a safeword?  If it was bad enough to make him run off then he should have said ‘Red’ a long time ago! No, no, she couldn’t even blame him. He had tried so hard to atone for what he’d done and she had pushed too hard. Sitting on the edge of the bed Margo buried her face in her hands. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She should have waited until she was calmer. That was Domming 101! Her mind played back everything that had happened. She should have stopped when Eliot’s arms gave out or when he was pleading with her. Despite not using a safeword there were so many warning signs. She should have known when he didn’t respond to her.  When she pet his hair and told him he was good he had pulled away from her. She should have known then.

This wasn’t like before. It wasn’t like when she thought she had sent Eliot into Subdrop. This time she knew exactly what she had done. This time it was completely her fault. Yes, Eliot had royally pissed her off and he had acted like a total dick. But that didn’t mean she got hurt him. She was supposed to take care of him, help him, and be his best friend. Instead she had taken his trust and completely destroyed it. In an instant it was gone.

And who had he gone to? Some stupid first years that she didn’t know somewhere where she couldn’t get to him. Sure, she could do a locator spell, follow, and fine Eliot, but that wouldn’t help. Kady’s words still rang in her ears.

_Actually, what he said was that he didn’t want you._

Who could blame him? If Margo could get away from herself then she would.  She turned a bottle of Turitrel over in her hands, the pills clattered against the plastic. If she took the pills it would help mask the guilt and she could stop worrying. It would help, but Margo didn’t want help. She didn’t want to just make the feelings go away and ease the well-earned suffering. That would be too easy. Besides, she couldn’t. Eliot was somewhere suffering and she had no idea how well he was being taken care of. It didn’t feel fair that she should be temporarily absolved while he was in Panic.

There wasn’t a way to fix it, but there might be a way to make it better. All she had to do was give Eliot something he wanted and let him have a fun time to replace the terrible time. The list of things that Eliot wanted wasn’t exactly long. Most of the time if he wanted something he would go and get it himself, provided it didn’t take too much effort. But there was one thing Margo knew he wanted that he didn’t have yet and she was going to get it for him.

First thing she had to do was stop looking like she had been rolling in a pit of self-pity. She took a shower, trying to wash away the guilt clinging to her skin. It helped a little. It felt like some of Eliot’s punishment slid in soapy mounds down the drain. By the time she was finished every surface in the bathroom was covered in a layer of condensation and the shower had started to run cold. Her skin tingled as she towelled off and wiped away the steam from the sink’s mirror. She barely recognised the person staring back at her and knew she had to pull it together.

With her hair wet and flat Margo found that she very closely resembled a ferret. Actually, Eliot had told her as much one day after they got caught out in the rain. She had laughed and told Eliot he looked like a cotton ball with his puffy curls and he had told her she looked like a drowned ferret. This was followed almost immediately by them conjuring up a fire in the first year dorms and trying to out-insult each other.

Margo quickly dried her hair and slipped into a comfortable black and grey dress. There was a plan forming in her head.  It wasn’t a very good one and it required a very specific set of circumstances to work but Margo wasn’t overly worried. She just had to set up the game and everything else would fall into place. She checked the mirror, making sure she didn’t still have cry-face and once she was satisfied headed back out of the bathroom. This had to work. If it didn’t work then she didn’t know another way to make it up to him.

Gathering her strength Margo headed down stairs, putting on the perfect mask. No one looking at her would be able to see the inner turmoil. They wouldn’t know how worried she was. She should have done this sooner. At least it was just Kady who saw her frazzled. That Margo could deal with later. Right now she had Operation Fix Eliot to contend with.

Grabbing a bottle of Pinot Grigio Margo headed into the commons. Well, the first part of her plan was in place. Quentin was sitting awkwardly in the corner of the sofa. The way he sat reminded Margo of a bird. It was unattractive and weird and Margo had to ignore that. This was for Eliot and she could handle Quentin’s…eccentricities.

Sitting down on the arm of the couch Margo smiled and looked down. “And what’re you doing all alone in here?”

Quentin glanced up from his books and quickly, nervously, ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, um, I was just studying.”

Margo gave a small nod and set the wine on the table. “All alone? Where’s your friend?”

“Julia?”

“Sure.”

“She, um…” Quentin paused, looking like he was working very hard at getting his thoughts in order before he spoke. “I don’t really want to talk to her right now. Or Eliot, really,” he admitted.

Margo nodded sympathetically. “Pissed off, huh?”

Sighing, Quentin gave a non-committal shrug and set his book aside.  “No. I’m not…it’s just a lot to happen at once, you know? I thought that a magic school would be more magic but so far it’s—“

“Just like high school,” Margo finished for him. She leaned forward, pouring two glasses of wine and handing one down to Quentin. “Look, no matter where you go there’s going to be bullshit drama. Brakebills is away from the world but it’s still part of it. Everything that sucked out there still sucks in here. People are still people; they’re just more obnoxious because they can fly.”

“Yeah. I guess I just expected things to be a little different.”

Gently, Margo put a hand on Quentin’s shoulder and moved him aside so that she could slip onto the sofa beside him. It was a lot more comfortable and a lot more intimate and she was wondering if Quentin had been bathing in Old Spice. “Quentin, Quentin, Quentin. Nothing’s ever different. Wherever you go everything it going to be the same. It’s just the scenery that’s different.

Quentin mumbled something that Margo just barely caught. For a moment she wasn’t sure she had heard right, then she looked down and saw the book the Quentin had been ‘studying’. God, he was more of a nerd than Eliot had thought. It was adorable, actually.

“Did you say ‘not in Fillory’?” she teased, unable to stop herself from laughing slightly.

With an annoyed huff Quentin rolled his eyes and folded his arms over the book.  “Look, I don’t expect you to—“

“No, Quentin, I get it,” she said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Okay, throw a little of her own nerdy past in there. She thought that might help with her plan. “When I was a kid I made my family call me Jane for a week because of those books. I had this little spot in the pent house where I thought no one could find me.  It was…in the top cabinet of the guest bathroom. I pretended it was a door to Fillory.”

“You? Seriously?”

“Hey, pretty girls can read books too,” Margo said with mock offense. Alright, that was enough  personal life sharing for one evening. “And there are probably dicks in Fillory. I mean, that Watcher Lady or whatever didn’t seem like someone you’d wanna get tea and crumpets with.”

Quentin cleared his throat and stood up. “Um, Watcher Woman, actually. And she was kind of a villain so…um…Fillory is pure. So, yeah, there are bad guys and everything but, uh, ultimately good wins and everyone’s happy in the end. And you wouldn’t be friends with the Watcher Woman anyway. She was terrifying,” he explained. This was the first time Margo had heard him actually speak up and talk about something. Sure, he was still stuttering and fumbling over words, but he was actually talking. Maybe…this was the way to his heart. Or, at least, the way to his pants.

“I always liked the first book. Simple, satisfying. I always thought that finding Fillory was something of a metaphor. Like, losing innocence almost.”

“That’s fucked up, Margo.  Fillory was innocence. Fillory was this pure and beautiful place.”

God, this guy really loved Fillory. Sure, it was a fine and dandy book series. It had some nice parts and, yes, maybe she had once slept with someone who was a Dungeon Master. But Quentin really, really loved Fillory. He wasn’t gay, or straight, or bi-sexual. Boy was Fillory-Sexual. God, he really _was_ Eliot’s type. “You’re telling me I’m wrong because of my interpretation? Aren’t books meant for people to form their own ideas about the writing and imagery?”

Quentin was quiet for a moment. “I mean, I guess.”

“So, you can see Fillory as this pure, beautiful place. And I see it as…growing up. Jane Chatwin spent her childhood saving Fillory. Solving problems. That’s not what you do as a kid. You don’t run off to magical worlds and fix them. You…act like a kid. And Jane and Martin didn’t really do that, did they?”

“They were on whimsical, magic adventures.”

“When they should have been doing… whatever English schoolkids do.” Margo shrugged and picked up her glass, sipping at the wine.

Quentin followed her lead. He wasn’t nearly as graceful and held the glass by the goblet instead of the stem, something Eliot would consider a crime. “Yeah, but I don’t think you really grow up when you’re in a magical world. Except, I’m in a magical world…and it almost seems like there are more problems. Is he okay? Eliot, I mean. I figured you’d be with him since…”

For a moment Margo focused on her wine. Quentin had changed topics so quickly that he almost caught her off guard.  Thankfully, she had expected this question, though she thought it would have come a lot sooner. “He’s okay. Just sleeping it off.”

“Can I see him?”

                “I don’t think that would be the best idea right now, Quentin. How many people do you want to see after a punishment? Everything will be back to normal in the morning, Quentin. There’s no need to worry.”

                The expression on Quentin’s face perfectly conveyed how he felt without him having to say anything. It said ‘But I always worry’. He took a seat again, sitting a little further away from Margo. “Does he usually do things like that? I mean, burn people’s things to get back at them?”

                “Eliot…occasionally gets out of control.” That was an understatement. Although, taking someone’s personal property and burning it was decidedly new for him. He was usually a lot more subtle about things. “But, it’s okay. Everything is fixed. Margo fixes everything.” Or, at least, she would.

                “Right. I think it was Penny’s fault. He’s…not a good person.”

                “Who the fuck is Penny?”

                Quentin looked surprised then confused.  “I thought you would know him. I mean, apparently Eliot went on a date with him today. I didn’t even know Penny was gay. He’s been sleeping with Kady since-“

                Margo held up a hand, silencing Quentin. Eliot had mentioned seducing someone, but there had been a few other things happening at that moment. “Penny. Right, he’s sleeping with Kady. And he’s a Dom?”

                Quentin nodded.

                So, that had to be the Dom Eliot was with. Oh, Margo was going to have to have a chat with this _Penny_. No one got between them. “Right, Penny. It’s been a long day, Quentin. You must be tired after all that drama.”

                “It’s…I’m fine.  I just hope that Julia’s okay.”

                Speak of the devil and she doth appear. Julia came down the stairs, damp hair hanging limp, wearing what Margo could only assume were Quentin’s clothes. The sweatpants were rolled up and still dragged the ground and the Yale hoodie was about two sizes too big. Somehow she managed to make homeless chic look good.

                Quentin jumped up as though the sofa had suddenly caught fire. For someone who didn’t want to see Julia he sure did seem eager to get close to her. “Hey, you alright?” he asked, ignoring Margo now.

                Julia nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. “Yeah. I mean, not really, but there’s nothing I can do about. Oh, I, um, I borrowed your clothes. Do you mind?”

                “No, you probably need them more than I do right now.”

                “We’ll go shopping after class tomorrow,” Margo said, not liking that Quentin had decided to ignore her now.  She needed to get Quentin for Eliot and it was going to be a bit difficult if Julia was there the whole time.

                Blinking, Julia looked up as though she had just noticed Margo. “Yeah, thanks. You, um, you said earlier that I was welcome to your closet…”

                “Of course. Can’t have someone running around looking…like that. You’re a Physical Kid now, you’ve got to look your best. Otherwise we’ll have to sacrifice you to a minor god.”

                Quentin gave a small smile. “See? Everything is okay. I have some extra blankets if you need them.”

                “Thank you, Quentin,” Julia said, her voice small. “And…thank you, Margo.”

                Margo offered up a half-smile. Oh, she would replace Julia’s things and keep the little first year happy.  She’d already let vague threats hang in the air around Julia and she figured that was enough to keep the girl in line. It certainly explained to Margo why Julia wasn’t gloating about getting Eliot punished.

                Julia looked back to Quentin. “Let’s go see about those blankets, okay?  I’m…utterly exhausted.”

                “Me too,” Quentin agreed and finished his wine. “Uh, Margo, I’ll see you later, okay? Thanks for the wine.”

                “Any time,” Margo said as she watched the two friends go back upstairs. 

                The groundwork was in place now. Even if Julia had interrupted Margo felt like she had gotten pretty far with Quentin. All she needed was to trust him enough to get him into bed with Eliot. If things kept going like they were then she would have everyone happy by the weekend.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, whoops it's been three months. But, I swear this fic is still going on and I also swear that we'll get to the kink very soon. Slowburns are...slow. But! We're very close! Anyway, enjoy!

**Eliot**

The ceiling was unfamiliar. There wasn’t a wine stain and there weren’t colourful cloths hanging down. It wasn’t the first time Eliot had woken up in a strange room, but it was always slightly unsettling. He lay there for a few minutes, trying to remember the night before. It was patchy, but he remembered more of it than he would have liked and humiliation settled in, making his stomach turn.  He needed to get back to the cottage, make things right with Margo, and forget than any of this ever happened. First, however, he needed to get out of bed.

At some point in the night he had become trapped. He was comfortably on his side, not putting any pressure on his bruises, but Penny’s legs were tangled with his and one of Penny’s arms was across his chest. Essentially, he was pinned to the bed. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was still inconvenient. All he wanted to do was quietly slip away. Well, no, that wasn’t all Eliot wanted to do. A part of him just wanted to roll over and cuddle tight with Penny. But, he couldn’t do that, not right then. The idea of cuddling up and having pillow talk shrouded with complicated human emotion was enough to make Eliot ready to flee for the safety of his own bed.

It took a few minutes, but he managed to wiggle his legs free. Alright, halfway there.  All he had to do was get out from under Penny’s arm, which was easy enough. Eliot held his breath as Penny shifted, but thankfully the psychic stayed asleep and merely rolled onto his side. Thank God. He carefully slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake anyone. He cringed as he picked his pants off the floor. Had he really walked all the way across campus in these pants and such a horrible sweater?  God, this was so much worse than he thought. If Penny had any actual clothes that weren’t jeans and vests then Eliot might have borrowed something to get back to his room. Unfortunately, Penny’s clothes were not only worse but they’d never fit him, so Eliot got dressed and crept out from the bedroom. Most likely, they wouldn’t even notice he was gone. They would get back to whatever it was they were doing before he showed up and everyone could move on with their lives. Last night wouldn’t affect them.

It would, however, still affect Eliot. As he walked across campus he felt regret swirl in his stomach. If he’d been smart then he would have just stayed on the bed and waited for Margo. The more he thought about it the stupider he felt. If he had just waited then maybe he could have been forgiven and everything would be over. As it was, he had no idea what to expect. Was Margo still going to be pissed at him? Was he going to get punished for running? Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he could take much more. He needed to come up with a plan, something that would endear him to Margo again. The first thing he needed to do was get himself cleaned up.

The cottage was still silent, everyone fast asleep in their beds. Eliot let himself in and made a b-line to the bathroom, running a hot shower. The water felt amazing over his tense shoulders and back, but stung as it hit his still burning ass, making him wince as he tried to clean up. It wasn’t the most relaxing shower in the world, but it definitely made him feel a little better as he washed away the sweat and dirt.

Eliot dried himself off and slipped into soft dress pants. They weren’t his favourites and they certainly weren’t the most stylish, but they were comfortable. So, they would have to do. Now all he needed was to get Margo to forgive him so they could move on with their lives and forget about the whole situation. He knew what Margo liked in the mornings and he went downstairs, making up a cup of vanilla coffee and a plate of sliced fruit. He could make a heavier breakfast later, after everyone was awake. This was enough to tell her he was sorry.

Going upstairs Eliot went to Margo’s room. There was no evidence of the previous night. The cane was probably back in the closet and the paddle had probably been put away in the chest. At least he didn’t have to see them. Taking a deep breath, Eliot sat the tray of coffee and fruit on the side table and crawled into bed beside Margo. A part of him didn’t want to wake her up. What if she was still mad? Did it matter? If she was mad now she was still going to be mad in a few hours. He might as well just get it over with before anyone else woke up.

Cuddling up against her Eliot gently shook Margo’s arm, trying to stir her. He wasn’t sure what to say exactly. “Hey, Bambi, I brought coffee.”

Margo groaned and initially pulled away, mumbling to herself. After a few seconds her eyelids fluttered and she looked at Eliot through bleary eyes. Suddenly, her eyes opened completely and she sat up, putting her hands over Eliot’s head and brushing down his wet curls. “Eliot? Oh thank God.  I had no idea what happened to you! You scared the shit out of me!”

That definitely didn’t make him feel any better. Eliot was expecting Margo to be mad at him for leaving, but he wasn’t prepared for her to be scared for him. What was he supposed to do with that?  “I wasn’t thinking. I don’t even remember running.” It wasn’t a lie, everything about the previous night was still blurry. “Are you okay?”

“Me? What?  Yeah, I’m fine. Look, I—“

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before he thought about it. “For everything. Lying to you, the mess with Julia, running, all of it.”

Pursing her lips Margo nodded and pulled Eliot close to her. “It’s alright. You’re forgiven for that.” She pulled back and looked him over. “Never run away from me again, okay?”

“I won’t,” Eliot promised. The forgiveness lifted some of the guilt from his body as was replaced with an abundance of self-hatred. “I made coffee. And there are mangos and strawberries.”

Margo managed a smile, though it looked forced. Perhaps it was just because she wasn’t entirely awake yet. “We’ll get to that. First thing’s first, pants off, let me see your scrawny little butt.”

Eliot shook his head, lying down on his side. Enough people had already seen his naked bottom, and he was quite done. All he wanted was to curl up and relax with Margo.  “You know exactly what my ass looks like. It’s taunt, fantastic, and absolutely amazing. You’ve seen it before.  Eat your breakfast,” he told her, closing his eyes.

“Not happening, El. You know how this works. I’ve got to take care of you now.” She reached over, rubbing his back. “Come on, this is your favourite part. The part where you get all the nice attention you could ever want and you’re the centre of the universe.”

It was and usually he would be all about this. He’d let someone who was practically a stranger look at him, make sure he was okay, and he had been comfortable. He remembered Penny’s hands in his hair and felt bad for missing them. But, Penny wasn’t there, and all he had was Margo. “It’s really okay,” he assured her. “It barely even hurts anymore.”

Normally if he argued this much about it Margo would swat him or grab him by the ear. She didn’t. Instead she gently rubbed his back, guiding him onto his stomach. “How about this: Margo knows what will make you feel better so maybe listen to her,” she said gently. “There we go, good boy.”

Even though Margo was careful Eliot still winced and whined when she took his pants off. Everything was still for a moment and he waited for her to say something or touch him or do anything. After a few seconds of complete silence he looked back at her over his shoulder. She was looking down at the bruises, biting her lip, her hands hovering just above his blotchy skin.

Margo swallowed hard and looked at him, clearly struggling for words. This wasn’t just atypical Dom behaviour, it was atypical Margo behaviour. Normally she always had something to say, something smart or sarcastic. Now it looked like all of her words had left her. “I’m sorry,” she finally whispered, her eyes locked on him.

Okay, well, that was certainly confusing. Eliot propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Margo, waiting for her to explain. When she didn’t he reached out, putting his hand over hers. “It’s fine,” he assured her. “Like I said, it barely even hurts anymore. You know how easily I bruise. Besides, I fucked up, you dealt with it. It happens.”  He gave her a weak smile, trying to help.

His comforting words didn’t seem to have the desired effect on Margo. She shook her head and squeezed his hand. “It’s not alright, Eliot. You’re hurt and I wasn’t there to take care of you.”

“That’s because I ran—“

“Because _I_ left you alone,” she reminded him. “You lose your mind when someone leaves you alone. I started out trying to help you—“

“And I’m not planning on lying to you again. Trust me. You tried and you succeeded. Lesson learned, Margo. Stop feeling guilty about it.” Doms weren’t supposed to feel guilty about a punishment. Or, if they did, they weren’t supposed to show it.

Margo looked like she wanted to say something else but she just squeezed Eliot’s hand again and forced another smile. “Let’s take care of you, okay?”

Eliot nodded and let go of Margo’s hand, lying down with his arms around the pillow. He felt Margo moving to grab a bottle of lotion and laid still for her to apply gentle ministrations. She was always so good at this part and Eliot found himself relaxing into the pillow. The lotion was cold against his hot bottom and he didn’t realise how nice it was going to be. He could almost fall asleep like this.

As she worked Margo filled Eliot’s ears with reassurance, her voice a little shaky as she told him that he was so good and that he was doing great. It was the usual script she had after a punishment, but Eliot still loved it. He melted under the praise, leaning into Margo’s hands and feeling himself drift off. Her hands moved up from his sore bottom and onto his back, rubbing away the tension he was holding in his muscles. She worked her way up all the way past his neck until she was rubbing his ears and Eliot let out a content sigh. Margo’s hands  were clearly blessed by some kind of massage god.

Before he was completely asleep Margo stopped and pulled the blanket over him, tucking him into bed like he was a child. Eliot didn’t complain, he was too comfortable to say anything about the treatment save to mutter a few words of thanks.

Margo laid beside him, switching between petting his hair and rubbing his back. “You can sleep,” she told him. “It’s okay, I’ll be here when you wake up. I’m not leaving you again.”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, sinking deeper into the pillow. “You have to take care of Julia, don’t you?”

“She can wait. You’re more important right now. You’re my Eliot and I need to take care of you. Now, rest.”

Eliot gave a feeble nod, unwilling to argue any further. He was exhausted and completely ready to fall into a comfortable sleep. Now that he was forgiven and back with his best friend everything felt right in the world.

 

**Penny**

There was absolutely no reason for him to care. In fact, Penny should have been glad that only Kady was in his bed when he woke up. There was no Sub that he had to take care of and, really, he should have been thankful. So why wasn’t he? Why was he so worried about the little shit? Penny had pulled back the blanket and checked the bathroom and it had taken him a few minutes to accept the fact that Eliot wasn’t in the dorm anymore and had gone…somewhere. Or someone had taken him. What if Margo had come and taken him without Penny noticing? What if she hurt him again?

Penny tried not to think about it. Eliot was an adult, sort of, and if he wasn’t in Panic anymore then he was able to take care of himself. Of course, that was only if he wasn’t in Panic. It was possible he was confused, scared, and wandering around campus somewhere all vulnerable and pathetic and stupid.

It wasn’t long before Kady started to stir, stretching out her arms and yawning. She reached out and groped at the empty spot in the bed for a moment before half opening her eyes. Still mostly asleep she looked around before laying back down. “Subby left,” she mumbled.

How was she so calm about it? Kady was the one who had made Penny take the stupid Sub in and make him feel better. Shouldn’t she have been at least a little concerned about where he might have gone?  “Yeah, he was gone when I woke up,” Penny told her, trying to sound casual.

Kady rolled over, bringing the blankets tight around her. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s fine,” she said.

“I’m not worried.”

“Then why were you pacing five minutes ago?”

Shit. Had Kady been awake that whole time? “I wasn’t pacing. I was making sure he wasn’t going through my shit or lost in the cottage or something,” Penny lied, glaring up at the ceiling.

Opening her eyes Kady stared at him, a smile tugging at her lips. “You did a great job taking care of him last night, ya know. I mean, all things considered. You weren’t a completely shitty Dom.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“All I’m saying is that he probably appreciates it.” She paused, thinking it over.  “Or, he’ll never think about it again. If you want to ask him—“

“I don’t want to see him,” Penny said immediately. He didn’t want to care, and maybe if he ignored it then the feelings would eventually go away. The feelings weren’t real, he reminded himself, it was just the Dom side of him freaking out.  “I just want to see you right now, okay?  I don’t care about what happened last night, just what happens now.”

Kady stared at him for a moment, sitting up and putting her hand on his chest. “You don’t care about _anything_ that happened last night?”

With a smile Penny brushed his knuckles across Kady’s cheek. “Well, I kind of care about what happened before Eliot decided to show up. We can always replay that part…”

“Complete with getting interrupted?”

“Let’s skip the commercial breaks.”  He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. “First…go brush your teeth.”

Rolling her eyes Kady gave Penny a playful slap on his leg. “Jerk.”

“Yeah, I’m the jerk for giving a fuck about oral hygiene. Go on.”

Kady stuck out her tongue and stole one more kiss before getting out of bed. “Fine, fine. Back in a minute.”

As Kady disappeared into the hallway and Penny settled back into the bed he felt that familiar gnawing feeling in his stomach. He felt like he needed to get up and do something, maybe pace around the room again. But, he didn’t want Kady to come back and accuse him of being worried. He definitely wasn’t worried, not about the stupid little Sub. It was just that he was twitchy and annoyed. Maybe it was from the lack of sleep. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands until spots appeared in his vision. It didn’t make him feel any better.  Maybe if he just moved around he would feel better.

“Penny?”

Well, there went that plan. Penny looked up, trying to act like nothing was wrong. ”Hey. Welcome back.”

Kady regarded him curiously as she climbed back into the bed, putting a hand on his shoulder and frowning. Her expression didn’t help to ease the anxiety he was experiencing. “You’re tense,” she told him, her hands rubbing down his arms.

Penny instinctively jerked away from her touch. “I’m fine. Just tired,” he explained. A headache was starting to form at the base of his skull and he reached back, rubbing at his neck to try and ease the pain away. “I didn’t exactly get a lot of sleep last night, kind of got a little busy taking care of some stupid brat. Can we just drop it?”

For a moment Kady was quiet, as though she was thinking very carefully about her next words. She drew her knees up under her and drew a deep breath. “Look, this is a normal response, Penny. A lot of Doms get…attached quickly to a Sub. Especially a Sub in distress. If you’re really—“

“First of all, I’m not a normal Dom, okay? I don’t do Subs, I don’t do the whole attachment and Domming thing. Second of all, I’m _not_ worried about a stupid Sub that I met once. A Sub, I might add, that completely ruined my night. But I’m starting to think you’re worried about him. Starting to think you’re attached to him.” Penny crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the wall behind Kady’s head. She was being ridiculous and was probably just projecting her own feelings onto him.

“It’s a hormonal response, Penny. It happens in Doms, it’s so fucking normal and I’ve never seen anyone make this big of a deal about it before. It doesn’t mean that you and Eliot are going to ride off into the sunset together or that you’re going to run slap a collar on him and call him yours.  It just means that you’re a decent Dom and you saw a Sub in trouble and you’re worried. Don’t make it into such a huge deal.” She stretched back out, propping her head up on her hand and looking up to the ceiling. “Although, it would be nice.”

Penny understood how his hormones worked; he’d taken that class when he was twelve. But, he’d never really experienced anything quite like this. Or, at least, he hadn’t in a really long time.  “What would be nice?”

“Hmm?  Oh, just having a Sub around,” Kady went on. “Subs are fun. They’re affectionate and soft. They like making their Doms happy.”

“They’re clingy, obnoxious, need to be trained,” Penny finished for her.  “And I’m not having someone like that around. I’m not beating someone just because I can. Hell, you saw him last night. That’s the type of shit Doms do. I’m not doing that to nobody. Did you know it’s legal to do that shit? Yeah, Kady, completely legal to beat a Sub until they can’t move. It’s bullshit. I don’t wanna do that shit.”

Kady pulled her gaze away from the ceiling and raised her brow at Penny. “That’s what a lot of Doms do, sure. But not, ya know, good ones. Not Doms like you. Legal or not, a good Dom is good to their Sub. I think you’d be a good Dom. You were last night. And, I mean, not for nothing but seeing you Dom…kind of a big turn on.”

Okay, that last part almost made him want to do it. “You’re manipulative.”

“I know. But…I kind of want a Sub. And I kind of want to see you Dom again.”

Penny took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe that he was considering this. He didn’t want a Sub, did he? Of course not, he hated being a Dom. Well, for the most part. It hadn’t been so bad when Eliot was snuggled down in his arms and, okay, maybe he had been sort of proud when he got Eliot all calm. But that didn’t mean he wanted a stupid Sub in his life. “What if I hurt him or something? He’s all fragile and shit.”

“Pretty sure he’s a lot tougher than you think. Besides, I’m not going to let you hurt him. I’ll keep an eye on both of you. Besides, it could be fun. You don’t know how much fun a Sub can be.”

He knew exactly how much fun a Sub could be and it wasn’t a lot of fun. But, this wouldn’t technically be his Sub, not really. He’d be doing it for Kady so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.  “Look, Eliot probably doesn’t even want a Dom. He seems fine on his own.”

“Penny, he came to you. Out of everyone else here you were the person he went to when he felt afraid, when he needed someone. I have no idea why, but I’m pretty sure it means something. For whatever inane reason he trusts you. So, maybe you should do something with that. Maybe you should, you know, help him out a little.”

“I helped him enough last night.”

“Penny—“

“Look, there are about a million reasons why this wouldn’t work. First of all, I don’t Dom. Second of all, he doesn’t Sub. Third, I’m not…gay.” He shifted a little and swallowed hard, giving a small shrug. “I mean, yeah, I’ve noticed dudes before and some of them aren’t bad. But I haven’t really kissed one.”

Kady gave a small smile, looking Penny over. “Okay, well, have you thought about it?”

Sure, it had crossed his mind. Penny had been able to recognise that there were men he found attractive, but he hadn’t really given himself the opportunity to try anything with them. He always just figured they’d laugh at him. Besides, how was he supposed to know if a guy felt the same way? It wasn’t like it was on television. He didn’t know when a dude would even want that. He looked over at Kady, wondering if she was going to see him differently if he admitted that, okay, yeah, he did think about it. More than a little bit. “Does it matter?”

“If it makes you uncomfortable then, yeah, Penny. It matters a lot. I mean, I want a cute little Sub, but if you don’t know if you like boys then—“

“Shut up,” Penny finally said, holding up his hand. “Don’t you dare use your Sub voice on me. And….so what if I do? It’s not everyone’s fucking business if I like guys or if I don’t. Yeah, okay, I’ve thought about it. It’s not a big deal. Guys look nice, girls look nice, too. I can think about kissing whoever I want. Fuck you.”

He waited for Kady to laugh at him. Waited for her to tell him that she knew he wasn’t as manly as he pretended to be. As long as he was pissed off he could handle whatever she said to him. Because it didn’t matter anymore. That was out and his confession had fallen heavy in the room. He couldn’t take it back now. All he could do was wait for the inevitable.

“Okay, cool,” Kady said as though Penny had just told her that the weather was going to be nice that day. “So do I. I mean, I do a lot more than think about it, I actually kiss guys and girls and whatever is in-between or separate. Anyway, that’s all I needed to know.”

She didn’t laugh? She was acting like…this was normal? Was it normal? “Seriously?”

“Seriously do I like kissing guys and girls? Penny, I like a lot more than that. If you didn’t realise---“

“No.” He shook his head and rubbed his temples. “No, I mean…I’ve never told anyone that. I’ve thought about it a lot and…it’s…fine?” He didn’t believe this. Why wasn’t she laughing at him?

Kady rolled her eyes. “Penny, it’s _fine_. You’re allowed to like whoever you like. You’re allowed to kiss them or fuck them or do whatever you want. I mean, within consent. Look, you’re bisexual, that’s fine. You can be that.” She paused and looked at him. “Has no one ever explained sexuality to you before?”

“I thought only girls could be that.”

“Oh, baby, you’re so stupid. No, sorry, sorry, not stupid. You’re just…no one has explained this to you before. Boys can be gay or straight or bi or pan or…whatever?”

“Pan?” Penny shook his head, he’d look that up later. “I thought if I, like, kissed a dude or whatever then I’d be gay. Isn’t that-isn’t that how it works.”

Kady shook her head, looking like she was getting a little frustrated.  “No, Penny. What? No. That’s not how anything works. I mean, yeah, some guys that kiss other gays are gay. Some guys that kiss other guys are bi and they also kiss girls. You don’t have to decide that you only like guys or you only like girls. If you like both then that’s fine. That’s normal, Penny. A lot of guys are bisexual. I mean, you’re not even the first bi guy I’ve slept with.”

Normal? It was normal and fine and Penny was a little overwhelmed by that. He didn’t know what to do with this new information. “So…like…what now?”

 “Well, Penny, that all depends on one thing.”

“What?”

She looked up at him, expression soft. “Do you think about kissing Eliot? Is that something you want? Are you, ya know, okay with that?”

He had already admitted to so much, what was the point in keeping anymore secrets? If Kady was going to laugh as him he figured she would have already done it. Gathering up his courage, Penny gave a small nod. “Yeah. I mean, I’d like to get to know him a little better first, Yeah, okay, I want to and not just because he was all stupid and clingy last night. He’s a pretty alright guy when you get to know him. He has a stupid face and I like his stupid fucking face,” he admitted, his voice a low growl. “But it doesn’t matter, okay? I’m a Dom, he doesn’t want a Dom. He definitely doesn’t want me.” Eliot would probably laugh in his face if he knew this. He’d probably run off and tell everyone about stupid Penny having a stupid crush.

 “He likes you. That’s why he came to you. I saw him with you, Penny. It doesn’t matter that you’re a Dom, he still likes you. Maybe he’s like you and just needs time to figure out what he wants Besides, I can get people to agree to basically anything. It’s kind of my superpower.”

She wasn’t wrong, damn it. Somehow she had gotten Penny to agree to this bullshit. “Fine.  But when he says no we’re taking that and leaving. I’m not wasting another night taking care of a stupid Sub. And don’t tell him…everything I told you. Not yet.” He wasn’t ready for Eliot to know about all of that. He needed to know how Eliot felt first.

Kady smiled, giving Penny an affirmative nod. “Of course not.  We’ll go over, talk to him, make sure he’s okay, and then we’ll be right back here. No spilling any secrets, no one has to know you’re bi until you’re ready. Anyway, we have to come back because I still have to give you something nice for all your good work last night.” She ran a hand up his chest, letting it rest just above his heart. “Since you were such a good boy and all. And since you’re being so good today.”

Penny leaned forward to kiss Kady’s pouting lips and she pulled away. “Hey, that’s not fair.”

“You don’t kiss me, I kiss you,” Kady told him and  pulled him down, her lips on his. She put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the bed and straddling his body with her legs. “Maybe you deserve a pre-reward. A…preward.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Just hold still and let Kady take care of this.” She kissed him again, biting at his lip. “I’m really good at taking care of people.”

She was really good at giving people incentives.  And at being manipulative as all hell. Penny wasn’t going to admit it, but Kady had definitely worked some kind of magic over on him. There was a part of him that hoped that Eliot didn’t say no, a part of him that actually hoped this worked out. Maybe it was just because Kady had made it sound so nice, she’d made him feel…okay with it.

 

**Margo**

“For the last time, Margo, I’m _fine_ ,” Eliot complained loudly from his spot on the bed. He was stretched out on his stomach, holding a snifter in one hand with his other hand propping his head up. “Seriously, you have that whole thing with Julia, don’t worry about me. I’ve got everything I need, just go.”

How could he act like everything was fine?  Nothing was fine and he, clearly, wasn’t okay. Eliot was still in pain and it was Margo’s fault. She needed to be here, to take care of him, it was her job. Unfortunately, it was also her job to fix Eliot’s fuck up. Really, there was no winning there. “I would rather be here than shopping with Julia.”

Eliot smiled and set his brandy down, reaching out to touch Margo’s hand. “I’m fine, I promise. Go out, buy something nice, buy me something nicer, it’s fine.”

Margo squeezed his hand and gave a small nod. She didn’t want to leave him alone. What if he Panicked again?  Or what if he went into Drop? What if she hadn’t done a good enough job taking care of him? “You know I’ll come right back if anything happens,” she reminded him.

“Yes, Mom.”

Before Margo had the chance to properly reply to Eliot’s sarcasm there was a knock at the door and Julia poked her head in. She was dressed in Margo’s clothes, they had to be magically tailored a bit to fit her smaller stature. The bright colours and flattering cuts didn’t look like a typical Julia outfit.  Honestly, Margo thought it was an improvement. Maybe their shopping trip would actually end up being a good thing for Julia’s closet. At the very least it would get rid of all of Julia’s lawyer-in-training outfits. Margo was putting a strict ban on suit jackets for this trip.

Eliot lifted his head up, nodding in approval. “That outfit looks better on Margo but, well, you look like you belong here now.”

Clearing her throat Julia looked down at him. “I belong here regardless of what I wear. Not that it’s any of your business.” She paused and looked down at him, a look of faux concern washing over her face. “How’re you feeling today? You looked pretty bad when I left last night. I hope you’re not limping too badly today.”

“It’s so nice that you’re concerned,” Eliot told her with a sticky sweetness. “Just like I was concerned about whether or not your pantsuits knew what decade it was.”

“As much fun as the bitching and sniping is we really need to get going,” Margo butted in in an attempt to keep the peace.  “Julia, you need a jacket. Eliot, do you need another blanket?”

In response to this question Eliot rolled off the bed and brushed himself off. “No. Because I’m going downstairs. Because being upstairs is going to make me lose my mind.” He moved over, kissing Margo on the cheek. “Have fun, dress her well, I’ll see you in a few hours. Love ya, mean it.”

Margo watched Eliot go, feeling her stomach sink a little bit. She had to make it up to him, she had to get him exactly what he wanted, but that was going to be a lot harder with Julia beside her all day. However, once the first year drama was resolved it would free up her schedule enough to put her plans into action. “Let me find you a jacket and we’ll head out,” Margo said, forcing a smile.

“Yeah, where are we going, exactly? I mean, Brakebills is kind of in the middle of nowhere. I feel like there’s not a lot of shopping choices around.”

“We could go to the Goodwill just outside the forest surrounding Brakebills. Maybe even find an Old Navy. Or, we could go somewhere a bit more fun.”  Margo started digging through her closet for something that would match Julia’s outfit. “And your next question is ‘But Margo, how do we get there?’ Obviously, we’re going to get on a broom and fly.”

Julia’s stared at Margo, trying to figure out if she was being serious or not.

Rolling her eyes Margo handed Julia a wool coat.  “You’re about to see why Eliot and I are basically the greatest people on campus and kind of incredibly amazing.” Taking Julia by the hand Margo pushed back her clothes, revealing a door in the back of her closet. There were multiple knobs going up the side of the door, each of a different shape and size, some labelled and some not.  “Elliot and I have several favourite places. This door will take us where we need to go. Originally it was for liquor runs, but we’ve adapted it for multiple uses.”

Eyes wide Julia ran her hand along the side of the door, a small smile playing on her lips. God, first years were so simple, Margo thought. Sometimes the slightest bit of magic was impressive to them. Maybe this would actually be easier than she thought.

“Is…is this why there are no knobs on any of the doors in the cottage? Did you steal them for your magical door?”

“What? Oh, no, Eliot just thought that would be really funny one night when he did too much coke and, honestly, we have no idea what happened to the doorknobs after that. Anyway, that’s so not important right now. Let’s see, one, two, three, four…this is the one. Let’s find out where this one goes.”

She opened the door and they were hit with a blast of warm, ocean air. The scent of salt washed over them and the bright sun was nearly blinding. Margo quickly closed the door and shook her head. “Hmm, you really don’t seem like the L.A type..” Again, the door opened and the scene beyond it was dark. Well, it couldn’t accurately be called dark. The lights from the city glowed so bright that there was never truly darkness. Golden light spilled out of the door and onto the floor. It looked like a magical kingdom. Even the water from the canal they stood in front of seemed to be illuminated. “Milan is so not where you belong. Maybe…oh, who am I kidding? You’re a New Yorker. I know where you should go.”

Keeping a tight hold of Julia’s hand Margo opened the door one last time and led her through the entrance. It didn’t feel special to Margo, not anymore. It was just like walking into any other room. Granted, it was like walking to a much colder and dimly lit room. They stepped onto the cold streets of the city, snow was fluttering down and getting caught in their hair. Margo had forgotten how cold it was outside of Brakebills and was thankful she had at least remembered jackets, but her legs were freezing in her stylish yet impractical dress. 

“Come on. We’ll start with Bloomingdale’s and work our way around from there.” Margo was desperate to get out of the cold weather.

“We’re…in SoHo,” Julia said, her teeth chattering. Snow was fluttering down, melting immediately on the street and getting caught up in Julia’s soft curls. “You picked SoHo over Milan?” She sounded disappointed.

Margo almost reached out to brush the snowflakes from Julia’s hair, but she didn’t. “Maybe we’ll go to Milan one day. Today, we’re in New York and it’s fucking cold. Come on, let’s get inside before what little ass you have freezes off.”

Still holding onto Julia’s wrist Margo pulled her through the streets, weaving their way between shoppers on the slush covered streets. Ugh, if she’d known it was going to be so bad Margo might’ve worn a pair of boots instead.

They escaped the icy streets and were greeted by a wave of heat as they entered Bloomingdales. Margo gazed around the store as if it were her own personal kingdom. “Now, a couple of rules. You have final say over what you buy except I have final say. Trust me, I’m about to be your guru here. I understand fashion the way Eliot understands drinks and Quentin understands Fillory. What I’m saying is, you’re incredibly lucky that I’m here with you.”

“Those…weren’t really rules,” Julia said. “And, I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but you’re apologising to me. I have my own style.”

“And what am I apologising for again?”

“For Eliot burning my things.”

Margo gave a small laugh and shook her head.  “No, no, no. All apologies were taken care of last night. I don’t have to apologise to you for jack.  I said I would replace your wardrobe. I could, technically, replace your wardrobe with rompers and overalls and I would still be keeping my word.  But, I’m very kind, Julia.  I’m so kind that we’re at Bloomingdale’s.  And this is just the beginning. So, stick with me and be good, Margo is here to help.”

Ignoring Julia’s flabbergasted look, Margo made her way into the store, greeting employees by name.  It had been so long since she and Eliot had been out and, god, she really needed to plan a day for just the two of them.  Maybe a trip to the spa or just a nice dinner, really anything away from Brakebills would work.

“Emilio! This is my friend Julia, Julia Wicker,” Margo said, taking one of the employees by the arm and leading him back over to the door. “She’s a little overwhelmed by all of this, so we have to be gentle with her.”

The employee towered over Margo and she looked absolutely ridiculous leading him around, but he didn’t seem to mind. His dark hair was slicked back and he had an almost blindingly white smile. He looked Julia over before looking back to Margo. “She certainly is…uh…different than most people you bring in, Miss Hanson!” he said, his voice thick with an Italian accent. “But, for you, I will do what I can. Miss Wicker, was it?”

Margo shook her head. “I’m buying, you can just call her Julia.”

“I’m more comfortable with that anyway,” Julia said.

“I see. As I was saying, this is Miss Wicker. Do what you can with her,” Margo said with a smile that challenged Julia’s glare.

Emilio nodded and twirled his finger.  “Spin for me, Miss Wicker. I need the full three hundred and sixty if I am to dress you properly.”

Julia just stood there, mouth half open in offended shock. She stared at Margo, looking like she was ready to say something that wasn’t appropriate in the present company.

“Julia, spin for Emilio,” Margo said sweetly, twirling her finger. “Trust me, it’ll help.”

With a sigh, Julia turned herself in a circle and rolled her eyes. “It’s really just clothes.”

Margo and Emilio looked at each other for a moment before they both broke into laughter.  “It is not ‘just clothes’ by any means,” Emilio told her.  “It is an outward representation of your soul. What you feel inside is reflected on the outside. For example: Margo’s beauty knows no bounds, and her choice of outfit reflects that. It also represents her power, her ability to take charge of the situation.  You look at what Margo wears and you know, immediately, not to fuck with her.”

“You two take this way too seriously,” Julia said, rolling her eyes and smiling to herself as though the whole situation was nothing more than a joke.  “Really, I just want some dress pants, maybe some button ups. Something comfortable but professional.”

“Give me a moment with her, Emilio,” Margo said. She took Julia by the arm, leading her a little to the side. “Look, you’re not in Kansas anymore and you’re sure as hell not in law school. It’s time to let go of everything you had before. Let yourself live a little.”

“Margo, it’s just clothes.”

“Fine. It’s just clothes. Brakebills is just a school. Why not just shave your head and join a monastery somewhere if nothing matters?”

“You are so extra.” Julia sighed and shook her head.  “That’s not what I’m saying. I mean, it doesn’t matter what I wear. I’m going to be studying most of the time anyway. What matters to me, right now, is getting through school and learning magic. That’s what’s important.”

Smiling, Margo nodded in agreement. “And you work your best when you feel your best and you feel your best when you look your best. This is your armour, Julia. Now, you can either own it and dress like a person who matters, or we can see what the Salvation Army has thrown away. Live a little, explore your own fashion choices, and don’t be afraid to stray away from black outfits.”

To say that this aggressive little pep talk surprised Julia was an understatement. She stared at Margo, looking like she wanted to be amused but also like she believed what Margo was saying. For a moment she was quiet before taking a deep breath. “A lot of this just…isn’t me.”

“Julia, you’re not you anymore. Not the you that you were before, anyway. Everything is different now. You can control the weather, create light from darkness, fly to the moon if you want.  Really, your little pinstriped suits aren’t going to help you become a great Magician.”

“Eliot wears suits.”

“And he looks fabulous. Come on, now, let Emilio and I make you fabulous. For all you know, Eliot burning your clothes might have been the best thing to happen to you.”

Margo didn’t leave room for argument. She handed a baffled Julia back to Emilio, watching as he measured her and she grew increasingly uncomfortable. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t understand. In fact, Margo envied her for that. The only person who understood fashion and clothing the way Margo did was Eliot, because he was like her He was hiding something. If you hid behind designer handbags and perfectly tailored outfits then no one could see the pain inside of you. They saw what you wore, they saw who you wanted them to see, who you wanted to be.  No one saw beneath the layers of expensive fabric or past the cherry red soles of your Louboutin heels. They were blinded and that was what made having a complete wardrobe so important. Eliot hid his past, Margo hid her pain, perhaps Julia just didn’t have anything to hide. Lucky bitch.

She watched as Emilio piled outfit after outfit into his arms, aware that he didn’t have a limit and definitely determined to make the most off this commission. Julia was looking increasingly uncomfortable until she spotted something just behind Emilio. With little regard for what he was doing she moved past him, looking over a blazer on a rack.

Oh no, Margo thought, her lip curling. She pushed her way through the store and put a hand on Julia’s shoulder. “Sweetie, no. Tartan is hideous,” she explained, looking at the horrible yellow plaid blazer that had caught Julia’s gaze. For the love of god, it had elbow pads!

“I like it.”

“It looks great if you’re auditioning for the part of a Harvard professor with tenure.”

With a smile Julia pulled the jacket off the rack and tried it on. It looked worse than Margo had imagined and was, unfortunately, a very Julia blazer. “It’s perfect. I’m getting this.”

“Is there any way in hell I can talk you out of that? They have some really great coats over—“

“No. I like this. I think it’s very Brakebills. The colours and everything. This is something a Magician would wear. And it’s not black. So, technically it meets your standards.”

“This is the one hideous thing I’m letting you pick out today,” Margo told her. “But, I’m helping you find an outfit it goes with.”

There was something almost contagious about Julia’s bright smile. She looked so happy with her ugly blazer that Margo was almost happy for her. Margo rolled her eyes, helping Julia out of the blazer and handing it off to Emilio. So it was the worst thing Margo had seen in a while, maybe they could make it work. Margo was designing an outfit in her head as Julia disappeared into a dressing room.

 

**Kady**

This whole situation could definitely prove to play in Kady’s favour. If she did everything right then she would get everything she needed. It wasn’t about Penny or Eliot, not entirely, not really. Sure, they were…fun enough, but more than that they were useful. Eliot especially could be useful. God only knew what he would have access to. He was her key to getting everything Marina could possibly want, he was her ticket to freedom. And, she got to have a little bit of fun for once.

“You wait here,” she told Penny as they got to the Physical Cottage.

“What? Why? I thought the whole point of this was that I was someone he trusted, for some fucking reason, and that he, apparently, needed me. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

Penny was a piss poor liar. He’d spent the entire morning on the edge of Top Drop after Eliot had left. He needed this way more than he was letting on. Honestly, it was almost cute. It would’ve been cute if his stubbornness wasn’t going to massively get in the way of Kady’s scheme.

“Just, let me talk to him first, make sure he’s okay.” Kady really didn’t need Penny blurting out anything stupid and ruining her entire plan. It wouldn’t take much for him to end up in Drop or Defence, and neither of those things would help anyone.

Holding up his hands in surrender Penny sat on the porch, lighting a cigarette with his thumb and forefinger.  “Fine. But if you take too long then I’m leaving you here.”

“Penny, I live here,” Kady said as she twiddled her fingers and opened the door, slipping inside.

He would wait. Kady had no doubts that he would sit out on the porch until she was ready for him. His desire to be annoyed with the situation would be completely overpowered by his natural instinct to protect the sub he’d seen in distress. Not to mention he actually seemed to like Eliot. Penny was predictable and Kady liked that.

Walking into the kitchen Kady leaned her arms on the counter. Eliot had his back to her, fiddling with a French press, a cigarette dangling between his lips. “Hey, there’s our runaway bunny. Did you hop on back home?”

He jumped, nearly dropping his cigarette and coffee cup, causing Kady to smile to herself. “Oh, it’s you.  Right, good morning, please leave,” he said with no hesitation, going back to his work.

“I live here.”

Eliot sighed and shook his head. “Of course you do. Can I finish making coffee without you bothering me?”

“That’s no way to talk to the person who helped take care of you all night. I don’t expect thanks but a little appreciation goes a long way.”

“I’d appreciate it if you left.”

Oh, he was going to be difficult. Kady didn’t want difficult. She had liked him better when he had been all curled up and submissive. He’d been a lot easier to deal with. “Come on, kiddo, I’m not gonna hurt you.  But, seriously, you can’t expect me to just let you run off without so much as checking on you. After last night—“

“I will pay you money to never mention last night again,” he told her, trying to be stern but his voice catching with embarrassment. The tips of his ears were a brilliant shade of red and he was growing more and more focused on making his coffee.

“I don’t want your money, Eliot,” Kady said, taking a seat at the kitchen counter and watching him.  Poor little bunny, he was humiliated and, really, she couldn’t fix that. She couldn’t undo the night, she couldn’t erase what had happened, and, truth be told, she didn’t want to. 

Eliot sighed and grabbed another coffee cup from the cabinet. “Then what do you want? Because I will do anything if we can just ignore what happened and move on with our lives.”

Anything? Now, that was interesting. It left open so many possibilities, but she had to be gentle about this. She couldn’t overwhelm him with anything too soon. They had to move slow and easy. “An hour,” she finally told him.

Scoffing, Eliot put the coffee in front of her, standing against the counter. “An hour? I can’t give you time, Kady—“

“I want an hour of your time. Just to talk, don’t look so scared. I just wanna talk, make sure you’re alright.”

Eliot sighed and looked up to the ceiling. “I would be a lot better if people would quit asking me that,” he said, seeming to be talking mostly to himself.

Oh, he wasn’t okay.  He was lightyears away from being okay. Kady couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something was wrong. Maybe it was in the way Eliot’s fingers twitched around his cigarette or in the way he refused to look directly at her. “Look, this really isn’t a conversation we need to have in the kitchen. Let’s go upstairs and—“

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” he insisted. “I think we can all agree that we regret everything that happened last night. But, that was last night. As in, it’s no longer happening. So, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Uh, it does matter. You know why?”

“Because you thrive off seeing me humiliated?”

That was only partially true, but Kady wasn’t going to let Eliot know that it was a bit of a turn on to see his cheeks fill with colour. “No, because you scared the shit out of us. Look, Penny is practically in Drop because you took off before he could check on you. He didn’t know if you were still wandering around in Panic or—“

“I’m allowed to leave any situation,” Eliot interrupted, staring at Kady. “I can do whatever I want.  I don’t owe Penny anything.”

Kady rolled her eyes, leaning back in her seat. Why was it so hard to help people? “Yeah, ya know what, I think you do. You don’t have to thank him or whatever, but you owe it to him to let him know that you’re okay. Or, to tell him that you’re not okay.” She didn’t realise how aggressive her voice was getting, but Eliot needed to understand this. He needed to talk to Penny. “Or you can sit here and be completely selfish, pretending that shit you do doesn’t affect other people.”

Eliot stared at Kady for a moment. His hazel eyes had this distant look to them, like his mind was starting to drift off somewhere else. “I’m…known for being incredibly selfish,” he said, his voice low.

“I don’t think that’s true. I think you _want_ to be selfish. But, really, I think you’re scared right now. I think you’re being stupid and scared because someone actually gave a fuck about you. He did a really good job and he didn’t have to. He could’ve kicked you out, but he didn’t. Because he cares about you, because he likes you.” Hell, Penny liked Eliot enough that it caused him to come out. That mattered. There was no telling how long Penny had been struggling with his sexuality and, for whatever reason, it was Eliot who had helped him come to terms with it.  

“So, yeah, Eliot, you actually do owe him,” Kady went on. “Because he gave a damn and you wanna pretend like you don’t. You left him without letting him know you were okay. Do you have any idea how shitty that is? You scared him so much he’s nearly in top drop. Do you understand that? Do you even care?” She hadn’t meant to go off on a rant, but the words started coming out and she wasn’t able to stop it. She wondered how long all this had been in her head and why it took Eliot being a little shit for it to spill over. Usually she could control her emotions, but the situation made her anger tumble out. It was a lot like the doms who left their subs in Panic or in Drop. Regardless of whether it was a sub of a dom it was a shitty thing to do.

He was quiet, looking down, his cigarette shaking in his hand. It seemed that Kady’s words actually had an effect on him and there was something about that that made her incredibly proud. “I’m sorry I scared him,” Eliot finally said, his voice soft. “Just don’t…am I in trouble?”

Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh fuck no. This wasn’t what she wanted. Eliot was just supposed to understand why he needed to talk to Penny, his eyes weren’t supposed to glaze over like that. “Shit. Eliot?”

He looked up, his eyes unfocused. “Yes?”

This was bad. Kady wanted Eliot to get into subspace, but not like this. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Penny was supposed to talk to Eliot and maybe cuddle him down into subspace. It wasn’t supposed to come from Kady’s anger. “Okay, Eliot, bunny, look at me for a minute. Good, very good.  Now, have you taken any hormone suppressants or do you need me to get yours for you?” Without a proper dom and regular sessions it could be easy for a sub to slip into subspace with just a little, tiny push. The pills helped with that. They kept the hormones balanced so that a sub could function for a time without a dom. If Kady could just get Eliot’s pills for him then maybe she could fix this before Penny found out.

“Oh, no, they make me sick,” he explained in a fluty voice. “I have a hormone imbalance. If I take them I go to sleep…then I throw up.” He paused and looked up. “Are you going to make me take them?”

“Hormone imbalance, right. And, no, I won’t make you take them if they make you so sick. I’ll just...” Kady sighed and ran a hand through her curls. So, he didn’t take his pills and he just expected that to work? How long had he been living like this? And what did he usually do when he went into subspace? “Can you wait right here for me, Ellie?”

He cringed, pulling back as though he expected to be hit. When he wasn’t he opened his eyes again and looked Kady over. “Why’d you call me that?”

“It’s…just a nickname. You don’t like it?”

“It’s fine,” he lied.

Kady made a mental note never to call him that again. “Okay, bunny. You just wait right here and I’ll be back in just a second. Just…wait for me.”

Eliot stared up at her, looking confused by her question.  “You’re leaving.” He paused and a looked of understanding came over him. “Oh, because I left Penny when he was scared. You’re leaving…to teach me a lesson? That makes sense. Could be worse I guess.”

“What have they done to you,” Kady said in a horrified whisper before she could stop herself. She collected herself quickly and shook her head, wanting to give Eliot a reassuring pet but unsure of whether or not he would be comfortable being touched. “I’m just going to get Penny. Not because you’re in trouble,” she added quickly as she noticed the fear flash in Eliot’s glassy eyes. “Because he’s safe, right? Because you know that Penny will take care of you.”

“But isn’t Penny mad at me?”

“No, no, he’s not mad. He’s worried, that’s all. But, we can fix it. We can make him less worried. You want to fix it, right?” She was back to her sweet voice, the voice that would sound condescending to anyone who wasn’t in panic or subspace. The same voice that kept Eliot calm the night before.

Nodding, Eliot looked down at the coffee in his hands. “Penny did good,” he mumbled. The softness of Kady’s tone seemed to have helped some of his fears and anxieties subside.

Kady gave Eliot a small smile. “Yeah, and we’ve gotta let Penny know how good he did and how much he helped you. So, just wait right here for me. Can you do that?”

“I can do that. I think. I’ll try not to run this time.” He sounded like he meant that. Like he wasn’t completely confident in his ability to wait and not take off. At least he was trying.

“I’ll be very impressed if you can wait for me. Just give me one minute. I promise I won’t take very long. You can finish your cigarette and drink your coffee. Maybe you can make Penny some coffee.  I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” Maybe it would help if he had something to do, something good to do anyway. That way he wouldn’t just be standing around waiting and worrying.

Eliot gave another small nod. “I can do that. Does…Penny like chocolate?”

“Everyone likes chocolate,” Kady told him, grinning.

As Eliot got to work on the coffee Kady went to fetch Penny, her smile fading as soon as he back was to the sub. A part of her thought that maybe she should try to handle this herself, but it could take hours before Eliot was himself again. She couldn’t leave Penny just waiting outside. Well, okay, she could, but that would only increase his chances of going completely into top drop. Still, she couldn’t be sure that he would be able to handle this. Last night he had done really well with a bit of prodding, but that was last night. He hadn’t been so panicked then. Either it would go horribly wrong and Penny was going to completely fuck this up, or he would be able to take care of Eliot and get him calmed down. She was hoping for the latter but banking on the former.

As she opened the door she realised just how on edge Penny was. He sat on the porch, smoking a cigarette like he needed it to survive; his leg was bouncing irritably with his foot tapping obnoxiously on the wooden steps. 

“Hey, Penny?”

His head snapped around and he stared up at Kady with an air of concern. “Everything okay?” he said as he got to his feet. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” There was a pause.  “Is there a ghost? Are ghosts real?”

“Yeah, of course ghosts are real. There are entire courses here dedicated to—“ she cut herself off, shaking her head. There wasn’t time to explain ghosts to Penny. “There’s not a ghost. Can you just come inside?”

Penny threw his cigarette into the garden and took a step forward. “Something happened. What happened?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Eliot is just…he’s fine. I just think you should see him.” She should’ve at least given him some kind of warning for what to expect. In fact, she wanted to let him know what was going on, but her mouth didn’t let her. Despite the fact that her brain was screaming at her to tell the truth her traitor tongue kept filling him with false reassurances.

After a moment of silent staring Penny pushed passed Kady and stormed into the cottage. I was clear by his expression that he recognised Kady’s lies for what they were. She followed behind him, taking a deep breath as she prepared for the worst.

 “Hey,” Penny said, his voice loud in the silence of the kitchen.

Eliot jumped at the sound of Penny’s  voice. He turned around quickly, clutching a coffee cup tightly in his hands. “Oh, you’re here. I wasn’t quite finished. Kady said I should make you some coffee  and that you liked chocolate. So…that’s what I’m doing. You like chocolate, right?”

Penny was quiet for several seconds, silently staring at Eliot. Turning to Kady, he blinked, looked back at Eliot, then  back to Kady again. “You…broke him.”

“He’s not broken,” Kady said quickly. Penny was already going down the path of royally fucking things up. “He’s making coffee because he’s—“

“Because he’s broken. That’s the voice he has when he’s broken and not, like, normal Eliot. If there is a normal Eliot. You broke him. What’d  you  do?”

It seemed ridiculous that Penny just assumed Kady had done something. She had, but she was still offended that he just assumed it was her fault. For all he knew maybe she just found him like this. “All I did was talk to him. He didn’t take his pills like a normal person and he—“

“And you broke him?!”

“I’m broken?” Eliot put the coffee in front of Penny. “I just wanted to make coffee and now I’m broken?”

Penny rubbed at his face with his hands, looking like he was trying to figure out how to leave this situation. “No, you’re not broken. Kady just fucked up.” He looked back at Kady, a stern glare set on his face. “Is this seriously happening again? God, I need a drink.”

“You’ve got a drink. Eliot made you coffee, remember?”

“No, a drink. Something with enough alcohol in it that I can pretend this is all a hallucination.”

Eliot looked up and in an instant everything changed. His posture straightened again and he moved around the kitchen counter with his usual grace. Even his face lost the terrified bunny look. “Ooh, why didn’t you just say so? Give me that coffee, I’ll fix it. Kady, drink?”

Kady gave a small nod and watched Eliot trot out of the kitchen and to his bar. “Oh my god. That makes so much sense,” she said to herself.

While things were starting to click into place for Kady, Penny just looked lost. He furrowed his brow and shook his head.  “Wanna let me in on what exactly makes sense here. Because, honestly, this whole fucking school is a senseless place.”

Turning back to him Kady grinned. “Eliot. He makes sense now.”

“Eliot has never made sense to anyone in his entire life. Boy is a walking enigma.”

“No, Penny, he makes sense. Okay, let me explain this slowly for you. Eliot is always behind that bar. Anytime there’s a party that’s usually where you can find him.” She paused and rolled her eyes. “Unless he’s already drunk or high in which case check the nearest bedroom. Anyway, he’s safe behind his stupid little bar. He’s got massive wards around them so no one can get back there with him. He’s making drinks, which makes people happy, which gets him praise, which feeds his submissiveness. Penny,” she laughed and glanced over at Eliot, “he’s a genius. He can sub without actually subbing.”

It still didn’t seem like Penny quite understood what was going on. He watched Eliot for a moment before turning back to Kady.  “So, does that mean he’s fine now? Like, he can make drinks and be normal Eliot again?”

If only things were that simple. “Look, it’s one thing for him to satisfy his need to be told how good and wonderful he is by making drinks, but he’s kinda slipped into subspace. Like, kinda far. I don’t think a few words of praise are gonna fix this right now. We’ll just, I don’t know, take him to bed and let him sleep it off.  He should be fine in a few hours.”

“I was afraid you were gonna say something like that,” Penny said with a groan. He reached up again, rubbing at his temples as though trying to fend off a headache. “Is he gonna be like he was last night? All…crying and clingy?” Penny’s voice was un-characteristically quiet as he spoke. It was so low that when  Eliot turned on a blender Kady worried that she couldn’t be able to hear him.

Kady rolled her eyes again wondering if Penny really didn’t know the difference between panic and subspace. They were definitely going to have to talk about this later. “No. I mean, he might be a little clingy, but he’ll be alright. He just needs someone to watch him right now.” And Penny definitely needed comfort from Eliot. It was a win-win at this point. Sure, things could’ve gone a lot better, but Kady thought that this was pretty good considering she was making up the plan as she went.

“First of all, I love how you’re talking about me like I’m not here. Secondly, drinks. Tequila sunrise for Kady. For Penny, a mocha coffee colada.”

If Kady knew anything about mixing drinks then she would have been impressed by the perfect fade Eliot had managed in the cocktail. Instead, all she worried about was the taste. With one sip she was in absolute heaven. “This is…actually amazing,” she said. She had planned on giving him praise regardless, but he was a really good bartender and the words were well earned.

“Of course it is, I made it,” Eliot said. There was a small smile tugging at his lips as he let Kady’s affection soak into him.

“Hey, so, we were gonna head upstairs,” she told Eliot as she took another drink. “So, you can join us if you want. Or, if you don’t wanna join us…you should anyway. Right, Penny?”

Penny glared down at her and she stared up at him until he inevitably gave him, giving her what she wanted. “Yeah. What Kady said,” he muttered and took a sip of his drink. He kept looking over at Eliot, as though he expected him to spontaneously combust. Penny paused and looked down at his drink. “Holy shit…this tastes like if a cake and coffee had a baby and it was a drink. But, like, not in a gross way. In a good way. Good…liquid cake coffee?”

“Pudding?”  Eliot ventured.

“No, not like pudding. Like…I don’t know. But, it’s really good.”

Eliot beamed. “The coffee helps to balance it so it isn’t too sweet. I’m very good at what I do,” he explained.

Kady nodded. “You’re an amazing bartender. Now, how about we take our drinks upstairs and just…talk for a minute?”

Eliot’s proud smile fell. Pursing his lips he glanced back over at the empty bar and seemed to realise that there was nothing else he could do down here. “Is…this about what you said earlier? Or, rather, what you shouted about?”

She hadn’t been shouting! Okay, maybe she had raised her voice a little bit, but calling it shouting was a stretch. “Yeah, it is. You’re not in trouble,” she reassured him as another flicker of fear flashed in his eyes. “We just want to make sure you’re okay, remember? Like we talked about.”

Eliot nodded and looked to Penny. “I suppose…I have a few minutes to spare.”

“It won’t take long,” she promised him. “But, we should really talk about this in my room. Fewer interruptions, less chance someone is gonna overhear us.” Embarrassing Eliot was one thing, publicly humiliating him wasn’t something Kady was into.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Penny told Eliot as they climbed the stairs. “Kady isn’t gonna hurt you or anything. I won’t let her. Promise.”

Eliot made a small noise to express that he understood but didn’t say anything.

Maybe once she got him settled in her room he’d calm down a little bit. “Okay, little bunny,” she said, as she opened the door and motioned him inside, “you can lay down if you want to. You don’t have to.  Don’t touch my shit, though.”

“Oh, a warning, how nice,” Eliot said as he walked in. He looked back at Kady as though waiting for a reaction. When she didn’t give him once he nodded to himself and moved further into the room. “And don’t call me bunny. I’m not a rabbit.”

 “Of course not. You’re a bunny.”

“Why?”

“Yeah, he’s not very bunny-ish,” Penny interjected, closing the door behind him. “He looks more like a…rat.”

“I do _not_ look like a rat,” he said and it came out more like a squeak. Immediately, he cringed away from them as though ashamed he’d spoken.

Penny didn’t seem to catch Eliot’s hesitation and nervousness. “Yeah, you’ve got that sharp rat face and big dark eyes. I’d say rat.” Penny shook his head. “Except when your hair gets wet. Then you look like a dandelion. Because it’s all poofed out.”

Eliot glanced again at Penny and then to Kady before he spoke. “You’re being cruel. Not a bunny…” he said, his voice trailing off as he struggled to keep arguing.

If Kady were to explain why she thought of Eliot as a bunny he’d probably find it a horrible insult. He was just adorable with cotton soft hair and big eyes. And, well, he was skittish. Getting close to him was like trying to hand feed a wild rabbit. She didn’t know if he was going to get near her or turn and hop away. And this moment right here was why he was bunny. He kept checking on Penny and Kady’s expressions as though he needed to ready himself to run.

Eliot wandered around Kady’s room for a moment, briefly looking at the books on her shelf. He wasn’t going to find much of interest. The room was pretty bare. The only thing that showed any personality was the purple and green striped comforter on her bed that she’d gotten on sale. Those weren’t even her favourite colours, the thing was just cheap. There were no photographs depicting her having a good time with friends or souvenirs from concerts and adventures. The room was a minimalist dream.

Taking a seat at the edge of her bed Kady kept a close eye on Eliot as he looked around the museum of minimalism. “Remember, don’t touch anything.”

“There’s not a lot to touch. Unless I felt like reading first year books; which trust me, I don’t. Kady, who are you? What do you like?”

She felt like her room depicted exactly who she was. There was nothing there because she was nothing. No hint or trace of a personality because even Kady didn’t know what she liked or who she wanted to be. “I like a lot of things. Bunnies. Cats. My favourite colour is red. I like Penny and I like you.”

“No you don’t,” Eliot said without tearing his gaze away from the books.

Kady raised her brow. “I don’t…what?”

“You don’t like me,” Eliot told her, keeping his attention on the books. “The person you met last night was not me. You won’t ever see him again so if you like him then I’m sorry. You haven’t even met me yet.”

God, he was so broken. This wasn’t the type of broken that could be fixed either, not overnight anyway. There was so much self-loathing that Kady wasn’t sure where to begin. But, she supposed that talking about panic was a good place to start. “Eliot, come here,” She got up and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the bed. There was a little resistance, but subspace was ultimately winning over. He bitterly let Kady lead him over and set him down on the bed. “Look, no one is mad at you for going into Panic.”

“I never said I thought you were mad—“

“And no one here is gonna judge you for it. Look, I’ve seen subs in way worse Panic than that.”

Eliot looked up, staring at Kady suspiciously. “First of all, not a sub. Secondly…you have?”

Oh, so he still thought that he was keeping some kind of big secret from her?  She wondered how he expected that to work but decided to deal with that problem later. One step at a time, she reminded herself. “Sure I have. I’ve seen subs curled up, not able to move or speak. And you know what I did?”

Eliot just kept looking at her, not saying anything, just waiting for her answer.

“I took care of them. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do. Look, sometimes subs, uh, and switches go into panic. It happens. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about or whatever.  You just have to deal with it as it happens. Sure, in a perfect world no one would ever go into panic and there would be nothing but sunshine and rainbows. But the world isn’t perfect. People aren’t perfect. But, I think Penny and I are pretty okay sometimes.” She paused and smiled. “What I mean is…you came to the right place. You’re safe with us.”

Silently, Eliot seemed to mull over everything Kady said. He looked confused as he processed the information, watching his hands and occasionally acting like he might say something.  Finally, after several seconds, he looked over at Penny, like Penny would have the answers he was searching for. “Is she lying?”

Oh great, he had to ask Penny a question. Kady looked over and silently prayed that Penny wouldn’t say anything that would completely fuck this up. Sure, Penny was sweet and a good person, deep down. He just…wasn’t always so smart.

 “Did you feel safe?” Penny said as he took a seat on the other side of Eliot. “Look, last night you definitely didn’t feel safe. But, you also came to me. So, if I make you feel safe then Kady isn’t lying.”

A sense of pride swelled up inside of Kady. Penny was so calm and gentle and actually helping Eliot to calm down. She could see the effect Penny’s words had on Eliot. His shoulders relaxed and it seemed like there was a weight lifted from him.

“You’re safe,” he finally said. “I knew you were safe…”

If Kady didn’t know any better she’d swear she saw Penny smile. “Well, good. Cool, I mean. I’ll try to be a safe place for you, I guess. Here, lie down.”

“Can you cuddle with me again?”

Penny hesitated and looked at Kady, whose only advice was a non-committal shrug. “Yeah, we’ll see. For right now, just lay on the bed.”

With a small nod Eliot stretched himself out on the comforter, looking very feline in his movements. “I’m not sleeping, though. I slept most of the morning away with Margo.”

Penny tensed, clenching his jaw. “With Margo?” He cast a look at Kady, anger in his eyes.

Eliot curled up, bringing his knees to his chest and looking comfortable and impossibly small. “Yes. She…we talked. She forgave me for last night. So, that’s not something we need to worry about. That’s over.”

“That’s great,” Kady said before Penny could get another word in. She looked over, silently telling Penny to drop it for now. Eliot was forgiven, which mattered to him. There was no way they could convince him right then that what Margo had done was wrong. It would have to wait.

Eliot yawned and pulled a pillow close. “You can leave. I’m fine,” he told Penny, despite the fact that he had reached out and grabbed a hold of Penny’s vest.

Penny just rolled his eyes and laid down, looking at Kady like he was challenging her to make fun of him. “Hey, I’m your safe place or whatever, remember? Besides, I don’t think Kady is gonna leave you alone to snoop through her shit.”

“I’m not going to snoop. First of all, I don’t snoop, I discover. Secondly, my brain is being stupid right now. It’s stupid and I hate it. Once I’m me again I’ll snoop and find out all of Kady’s secrets.  I’m sure there’s something interesting. Probably hidden in the sock drawer or something.”

_Under the mattress, actually,_ Kady thought as she watched the two of them getting comfortable. _And sew into the mattress._

“Yeah? Good luck with that one,” Penny told him, reaching out to rub Eliot’s back. “Hey, whenever you’re normal again you’ve gotta show me the spell to open the doors here. And, also, you gotta tell me why there are no doorknobs.”

Eliot looked up and rolled his eyes. He started talking about how ridiculous it was that Penny didn’t already know the spell and that it was basic knowledge, but he agreed to teach him.

 

**Penny**

It was midnight. How was it midnight? Penny’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and he stretched out, joints popping and cracking from his uncomfortable sleeping position shoved in a bed with two other people. How long had they been asleep?  It had still been daylight when he’d lain down and he couldn’t remember drifting off to sleep. There was a moment of panic and he reached out, feeling the bed next to him.

“Oh, you finally woke up.”

Eliot’s voice calmed him down a little. Penny sighed and rolled over, unable to make out many of Eliot’s features.  Long shadows covered the room, giving Eliot’s face an eerie look. Even shrouded in darkness there was no mistaking that sharp chin and mess of curls. Definitely Eliot. “Hey, you decided to stay this time?” He was…relieved? God, that felt weird.

The darkness wasn’t enough to hide the look of embarrassment that crossed over Eliot’s face. He looked down, twiddling his fingers absently. “Kind of. I mean, I got up and took a shower and changed clothes. What I was wearing wasn’t very good for sleep. Margo came by earlier, I pretended to be asleep. I don’t know if I can stand hearing about how shopping went. Not yet anyway.”

Penny rolled his eyes at Eliot’s tangent and sat up a little, resting his back against the headboard. “But, you came back.” He was a lot happier about this than he thought he’d be. Eliot had come back on his own. “Why? I mean, it’s fine, good, whatever. It’s cool that you came back but…why?”  He couldn’t help but ask, he needed to know what he had done right.

Eliot was quiet for a moment, seeming to struggle with his own answer. “Let me ask you a question. What…what do you see me as?”

That was quite the question. How the fuck was Penny even supposed to answer that? Was this some kind of stupid test? Was there even a right answer? “I dunno. I guess…as Eliot. Weird…Eliot who likes drinking and fire? You’re just Eliot, okay?” What was he supposed to say? That Eliot was cute and interesting and he liked listening to him talk? No, that just sounded stupid. Almost  as stupid as ‘Just Eliot’.

“Exactly,” Eliot said and pursed his lips. “To you I’m…Eliot. Just that. I’m not something that needs to be won. I’m not some challenge or something you can show off to other people. You didn’t even say Sub. You just…said Eliot. I like that about you. I like being around you. You’ve seen parts of me that should remain hidden and yet here you are.”

What kind of Doms had Eliot been around?  Aside from really shitty ones. There was a part of Penny that made him want to personally punch every Dom that’d made a game out of Eliot’s existence. “Look, I’m not here to Dom you or whatever. I’m just here to…I’m just here, okay?”

Eliot smiled, putting his head on Penny’s shoulder. It wasn’t uncomfortable. There was something almost familiar about it, something about it that felt completely natural and Penny wasn’t sure what to make of that. Maybe he was just tired.

“I know. I like that about you. You’re just…here. And I’m just Eliot. And that’s great. But if you want to then you can. Dom me, I mean. Not much,” he added very quickly. “I’m definitely not your servant or your slave. I’m still just Eliot, but you’re allowed to pull my hair sometimes.”

Penny recognised that as odd as the offer was it meant a lot to Eliot. It wasn’t just that Eliot was giving Penny permission, he was trusting Penny not to abuse that permission.  He was letting Penny see other parts of him, parts that he had hidden from the world. Though Eliot’s expression revealed nothing, Penny was sure this was a nerve wracking offer for Eliot to make. “Did you decide this all on your own?” Wasn’t this exactly what Kady had suggested? It almost seemed like the two of them were working together.

“I decided it in the shower and please just say yes before I decide to change my mind because that’s definitely a possibility. I just…I might regret saying this but I like you, alright? Quite a bit, actually. I’m sure this seems sudden, I bond very quickly.”

Reaching over Penny gave Eliot’s hair a small pet. He couldn’t believe that any of this was real. It all felt so stupid and so far away from what he normally did. “I like you too,” he admitted and the words felt freeing. As he spoke a tension seemed to leave the room. “And I kind figured out the bonding thing already. Not much of a secret.” As he ran his hands through Eliot’s curls he thought about the offer and how wrong it could go. “Full disclosure? I have no fucking clue what I’m doing here.”

“That’s okay, I never know what I’m doing. Besides, I’ve done this before with people who knew even less. It’s fine.”

Penny managed to keep himself from pointing out that it didn’t seem like Eliot had a sparkling _résumé_  when it came to Sub and Dom relationships. “It’s not fine, Eliot. I don’t really Dom—“

“I said you could pull my hair sometimes. We’re not going full Sub-Dom here. Just…a little bit,” Eliot explained and cuddled up closer. “You don’t have to know what you’re doing. We’ll figure it out. And, if it helps, I guess that Kady can play too.”

Oh, Kady was definitely involved in this. There was no way Penny was going to go through this alone. He needed her. She knew what to do, she knew how to have a Sub. Penny was just good at…well, he wasn’t sure what he was good at. “Oh, I feel like I’m definitely going to regret this.” He leaned over, gently kissing Eliot’s forehead. “How about we talk about it in the morning with Kady? We don’t wanna rush shit,” he suggested.

There was a small pout but Eliot relented and settled down. “Okay, in the morning. Oh, and, you can also do that. Kiss me, I mean. I’m okay with that. I’m very okay with that”

Penny was eternally grateful for the night that hid his blush. Maybe he would do that. Not right then, not that night. A little kiss on the forehead was as far as he was going right them. But, tomorrow, maybe…maybe he would be able to do more. He drifted off, Eliot in his arms and in his head.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments and Kudos are always welcome. I will warn you that I have joint problems that can make typing difficult so sometimes it takes me a while to update. Follow me on Tumblr for more Magicians/A Softer Brakebills/Further Sinning https://www.tumblr.com/blog/penny-royal
> 
> Also, Pennyroyal is what I have named this godless ship of Penny/Eliot.


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